Day 20: Dead Weight

My hair is a sea of belligerent tendrils springing forth from my skull like thoughts escaping a meat grinder. My nails protrude like broken tree bark from my stone-like ice cracked fingers. Frost clings to my beard like moss to a wizened tree.

The axe at my side can cleave through men as a ship cuts through water. My eyes glow faintly, like the coals of a dying campfire. Wispy smoke trails from my mouth as breath escapes my body and is swallowed by the star strewn air.

As the coals of the others are shrouded by fleshy lids, I tread back and forth under the night sky. Ever guarding our longboat, so that we may be carried away on her once again. Sleep beckons and pleads to me, but my axe is nothing more than dead weight in the battle I must fight.

Day 19: Under the Weather

I've been feeling a bit under the weather today. Have you ever wondered where that phrase came from? After coming home early from work in a daze brought on by sickness I thought about that, among other strange things. After doing some research, I found that most people agree that it was originally a nautical phrase. Whenever sailors were taken by seasickness, they would be sent down under the deck and away from the weather to recover. Under the weather. Go for it Flula.

So what did I do with my time since coming home early from work? I was Batman for a while and fought against Bane and the Joker’s henchmen, which coincidentally turned out to be very loud (and vulgar) British children. The online component to Batman: Arkham Origins is quite compelling though. 

I got into the open beta for Blizzard’s Hearthstone, which is brilliant by the way (like all Blizzard games). Played that for a while. When it comes out for IOS devices I will never get anything done again. I kind of half watched half listened to several nature documentaries available on Netflix. I also laid down on the couch with my iPod and caught up on my podcasts.

Nowadays there are so many things to help us rest up and pass the time while we are sick.

Day 18: The Chill

 
A cold air blows through the naked trees, whispering about the storm to come. Silhouetted birds of all shapes and sizes sway slowly back and forth on branches as the wind sighs past them. They make no movements of their own, standing like frozen time-forgotten sentinels overlooking a winter ravaged landscape.

A gentle fog skips across the lake, untouched by the dark cold waters below. In a sudden outburst of air, the last leaf of fall is anxiously torn away from its dormant parent and sent spiraling towards its fallen brethren. They await to be buried in an icy tomb of snow. 

Day 17: Of Muppets and Such

Katie told me something before I left for work this morning that I haven’t been able to vanquish from my mind.

She said, “While you’re at work, if you get frustrated, just imagine everyone as Muppets”.

I don’t think she had any idea what a strange and wonderful impact these last few words would have on my day. No, I didn't get frustrated, but I still saw them. I can confirm that they are everywhere. They’re driving in cars, pumping gas, serving you at the store. And yes, they’re especially at work. With lab coats and beards and everything.

We've been watching a lot of 30 Rock lately. Maybe too much. There are some things that you cannot un-see.

In other news, while I was sitting down having lunch today something hit me. No, literally. Something actually hit me. It was a little white speck that melted as soon as it had settled on my skin. That’s right, snow. The first snow that I've seen this year. That’s something that I certainly love about living farther north of the equator.

Also, I don’t know if you can tell or not, but I had a bit too much coffee today. I was pretty tired when I woke up this morning, so I attempted to offset that with the magical roasted beans. However, the scales have clearly been tipped in caffeine’s favor.

Day 16: Creative Outlets

Something that I've really enjoyed about the 100 word a day challenge is the opportunity to do something creative on a daily basis. For several years I did a photo of the day, but since moving to Georgia that has passed on. I became so busy with work and all of all the other things that life inevitably throws at you, that it just teetered off. It wasn't a conscious thing, it just happened in its own timing. I think it had run its course and fulfilled its intention.   

For quite some time I forgot how important it was to have an outlet for creativity. Sure, I still painted and did photography occasionally. But it wasn't on a daily basis. I have since come to realize how important it is to do something creative every day.

Right now I have two major projects that I work on daily. This blog, and the Mr. Tea chronicles (if you don’t know what I’m talking about check out my instagram feed). Of course there are many other creative after-work ventures that I partake in, but those two happen every day regardless.

My job is not one that allows for creativity. In fact, it is the opposite of creative. I deal with cold hard facts, numbers, and lab results. But I NEED to create something. It’s an integral part of me that affects my well being and attitude. I have found myself during the day thinking about things to write, or things to do with Mr. Tea. It has given me something to look forward to during the 40+ hour week that I'm at work. It serves as a mental break and a time to reflect.

I would urge anyone reading this right now to find your creative outlet and channel your energy into it consistently. You’ll thank yourself.

Day 15: Imprisonment

The dark, dank crevices of the stone dungeon echoed with the sounds of breathing, whispering, and murmuring. The stale air whistled past the inhabitants, signaling that the solid oak door had swung open.

Hard, deliberate footsteps echoed through the stone maze as keys jingled around a ring with each pounding. Lantern light brushed against the walls and the cells, revealing stone that hadn't been touched in years. The prisoners leaned as close as they could to bars, attempting to soak in the only source of light in their dark-drenched world.

The lamp-bearer halted in front of a small cell. A tiny form could be seen partially shrouded in the vertically striped shadows of bars. He stood up from the corner with a dirty arm raised, shielding his face from the only light that had caressed his skin in years.

The deafening sound of a key being inserted in a lock echoed throughout the maze, making the young captive lurch with surprise.

“You are free now” a deep and unfeeling voice boomed. “The master was notified that he began writing again. Well…..don’t just stand there covering yer face like a ghoul, get up and follow me.”

The boy obediently followed the gruff figure through the stone labyrinth. Finally they came to the doorway where the boy had first crossed into this hole several years ago. He was utterly blinded by the light once the door was opened and he walked, sightless, behind the wide figure. The large man abruptly stopped and the boy ran into him.

“Here he is.” The gruff voice bellowed.

“Ah. Good.” The new voice was kinder, calmer, and aged. A voice that the boy recognized from when he first was taken from his home and placed here.

The boy’s eyes were still blinded from the light. He reached around to feel where he was, but was unable to grasp anything within his reach.

“Peter,” The calm voice said. “Your author has started writing again. It was last night after a particular experience that invigorated his creativity.”

“So….I’m free now?” He said slowly and cautiously. “I mean, I can go back home?”

“Once you’re being written we cannot keep you here any longer. However, as you remember, if he stops writing and does not finish the story you must return to this place. For this is the dungeon of abandoned characters.”

As J.M. Barrie picked up his pen to begin to write, he felt a significant sense of relief after his long hiatus. He was awash with a sense of purposefulness and feeling of urgency to finish that he hadn't felt before.

Day 14: Hunting

The sun disappears behind the wispy early-morning clouds, diminishing its vibrant rays from spreading across the rain soaked salt marsh. The splash of a fish is heard as it’s disturbed by crunching feet on the white gravel. We stop short as my dad notices a group of white ibis and motions for us to stop. Crouching, we move slowly to the edge of the water with cameras at the ready. We are focused and unmoving, blending in with the still environment. As we begin to zoom and frame our shots the sun bursts from behind the cloud, once again spreading its light across the water-swept environment. Great lighting. A gentle, plop plop plop can be heard as the ibis hunt their tiny fish prey. Plop plop plop, snap snap snap as we take our shots.

Satisfied with the amount and quality of the photos taken, we move on down the trail. The gentle sound of water is the only thing to be heard besides the purposeful trudging of our feet. A slight breeze brushes against the marsh grass as it crosses over the water and swiftly past us. We hear a rustling and splashing sound. A great-blue heron with a wingspan of 4 ½ feet flies over us, dripping water, as we attempt to ready ourselves to take a shot. Alas, the heron is too swift. We lower our cameras and let the straps around our necks take the burden as we watch the majestic creature travel off towards the cloud-stripped sun.

Dad and I love coming out here together. Sometimes we don’t even see anything or take many photographs, but we still have a great time talking and spending time with each other. It’s quiet, there are no distractions and you can you just have time to reflect upon things. I guess this is why people like to go hunting. Instead of shooting a gun though, dad I and hunt our prey with cameras.

Day 13: Snooze

 

I’m ashamed to admit it. I really am. But I hit the snooze button every morning. Not once. Not twice. Sometimes it’s up to five or six times. There have even been a few mornings when I've hit the snooze so many times that when I actually got out of bed, I had five minutes to get ready for work. FIVE minutes!

I never used to take advantage of the snooze button, but in the last year or so it has been controlling my mornings. I think it’s because about a year ago I moved my alarm (iPhone) over to my nightstand. It’s just too convenient. Before, I had to get up and out of bed to decided whether or not I was going to hit the snooze (and I usually didn't).

So on Monday, when I have to go back to work, I am officially going to move my alarm clock far enough away that I have to get up to turn it off.

I hope this will help because, I like getting up early. I really do and I always have. It’s nice having a cup of tea, sitting down to have some quiet time, breakfast, and catching up on the news. I haven’t done that in a very long time because of that snooze button.

Day 12: Short but Swedish

Do you ever get a craving for IKEA meatballs? Well I do. I’m sitting here at my desk having lunch and that is all I can think about. Maybe it’s because it’s the food of my people.

If you’ve ever ventured into the Swedish maze of furniture, then you’ve probably had a plate of the gravy slathered meat spheres accompanied by mashed potatoes. If you want to do it right, you have to have a cup of lingonberry juice to go along with it.

They sell the frozen meatballs, mashed potatoes, and the gravy mix near where you check out at the store. Next time I make a trip there, I might need to pick some up for days like this. Because after getting the notion of IKEA meatballs in my head, this buffalo chicken soup just isn’t quite cutting it for me.

Day 11: Bang Bang

I’m sitting in my house trying to focus on writing something on my computer. The roof is covered with workers who are shouting as they use ropes and pulleys. Bang, bang BANG BANG BANG! The sound inside is mind-shatteringly loud and consistent as they pound away with relentless force. It makes my heart beat faster as if it’s trying to match the incessant tempo.

I think about the reason why they’re replacing the roof. It’s because of the leak that has reared its ugly head every time we get any significant amount of rain. It's been raining a lot lately. I think about the rotten wood that they’re removing and how damp and loose it must be. I hear a crashing sound as the worker presses his weight upon it. He goes through the roof, into the attic and comes careening down through the drywall in the ceiling. Bang, bang, BANG, bang, BANG, BANG! Chunks of drywall, insulation, and nails cover the carpet.

The person operating the crane spills his coffee and as he’s reaching down to grab the empty cup, he accidentally puts his full weight on the lever. Bang, bang, BANG. The load of shingles that he’s carrying swing out of control and into the front window; like an explosion it sends glass and wood particles flying everywhere. Bang, bang, BANG.

One unfortunate roofer loses his footing and I hear him slide down the roof and then watch as his body flies past the window as he grasps desperately for the rope. Bang, bang, bang bang, BANG. Another worker rushing to help him trips on a loose shingle and falls crashing on the deck and into the ceramic pots containing herbs. Bang, BANG, BANG!

A giant dump truck driving in the circle with a full load doesn’t see my car parked to the side and smashes into it as he’s making a turn. The side is caved in completely and the glass is shattered and blown out. The horn continually blows from the crumpled metal mess that used to be my car. Bang, bang, BANG, BANG BANG BANG!  

My brain can be such a jerk to me sometimes. After coming home to find the roof being replaced (and the neighborhood looking like a war-zone), all of these scenarios and more kept playing through my head over and over as I sat trying to write.