What I Did Today Instead of Writing (2)
After three hours of uninterrupted play, the baby fell asleep. I was faced with a dilemma only creative parents will understand. To write or to take a nap—that is the question.
I know you guys would have chosen to write. I'm sure of it. I've seen your posts, you devilish little productivity machines, all bustling with motivation and good intentions. I even turned on the computer: you inspired me to do that much. But I failed The Mission. Unlike all Better Humans out there, I'm still way behind on my Personal Growth.
I took the nap. A glorious, beautiful nap. I wish I could write stories as beautiful as the nap I took.
I had a dream, too. I dreamt of a traveling merchant trying to stop a royal wedding in an ancient kingdom. He had discovered that the prince who was about to marry their princess was concealing a terminal illness and had only a few months left to live. After much insistence, the traveller was called for an audience with the king. He brought along the prince's physician and a small piece of evidence: a bloody, gold-embroidered piece of cloth.
I could tell you how the audience went, but that would be writing.
