Writing (Well, Trying to At Least)
I’m all set:
settled on the couch
with my snuggie on
(don’t judge it was a present),
a big throw pillow in my lap,
my notebook on my pillow,
pen in hand.
Come Join The Fight!
“Seriously, who’s calling at this hour?”
I let my phone right itself out
before I attempt to write again.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
“I thought that had like 20 more minutes!”
I set my notebook and pen on the coffee table,
toss my heavy pillow to the other end of the couch,
remove myself from my snuggie,
and trip my way into the kitchen.
I pull my banana bread out of the oven,
leave it on the stove to cool
and return to the living room.
I stretch back on the couch,
untangle my snuggie,
stick my arms through the sleeves
and make sure my feet are covered.
I lean over and retrieve my pillow
and grab my notebook and pen.
I sigh, put pen to paper—
“Oh no, those pants need to come out right away!”