Thursday, November 7

Do you ever have those times where you are jolted awake at something like 3 in the morning because your muse is shaking your shoulder and is speaking so quickly it sounds like a foreign language? As you roll over to gaze at the clock and see that yes, you can in fact sleep for another 2 hours before you need to get up. But the muse is there at your bed side like a kid on Christmas morning. *tap-tap* On the shoulder. "Can we write now!? I have some great story ideas! Oh and hey, check out this poetry!"

Groaning you roll back over in bed and try to ignore that which you have sought all day long. "Where were you when I needed you?" You mutter as the stream of ideas from the muse continues. As if suddenly hearing your question the chatter stops. "At what time!?" the voice asks.

You grab a time out of mid-air. "3 this afternoon." When you know full well you were helping a customer at work try to find a book on "Chic Style" and were wishing you were anywhere BUT there.

The muse thinks for a second. "Oh! I know! At that point I was doing laps around Jupiter and was about to head back, but I had to make a quick stop over on mars for..." And on the chatter goes on. Your pillow slowly creeps up over your ears as your try to ignore the excited Muse, who having just returned is eager to show you pictures.

After a short while the noise seems to die down. At this point you're not sure if you're dreaming or if the muse decided to actually let you get some sleep. But no, as you roll over to look at the muse beside your bed (you notice the clock is brightly shining 3:30am) you're startled by how close it has gotten. You can see the tears welling up in it's eyes, and a small sniffle escapes from it's nose. "I have some really great stuff... but I guess if you want to go back to sleep... then... I guess you can." *sniffle*

At this point you growl and mutter something and whip out your pen and pad of paper you keep handy for times such as this, (Like, last night.) and start to write frantically.



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