Nudge | December 1, 2008

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digitalfridge.ning.com December 1, 2008

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Contents Blog Posts

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Thanksgiving Weekend

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Looking for my “Muse”

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Blog Posts

Blog Posts Thanksgiving Weekend It’s late Saturday night as I am writing this, meaning that I only have one more day before life goes back to normal. Not that I don’t like my job—it’s one of the best jobs I’ve had so far, and I’ve worked for a lot of different places during the last eleven years.

a couple of hours, then managed to slip away and get some other things done while he continued his much needed nap.

I can’t remember the last time that I actually cuddled with Josh, although I know that it used to happen all of the time up until But “normal” means more than putting the he was around three years old. That was ole’ nose back to the grindstone. It means probably the time he had a cold, and he that I’ll be returning to the same routine— threw up because of some nasty drainage. I wake up, drive an hour to Lansing, work eight slept with him on the couch so that he would hours, drive home, pick up the kids at the stay upright. babysitter’s, make dinner, put the kids to bed, There was a time when our kids were so and then enjoy the two or three hours I have small that I worried about rolling over while left of my day before I do everything again. they were laying on my chest and crushing Holidays have the tendency of mixing up them somehow. Now, they’re so big that they the routine and giving me something else nearly crush me. to do. On Thursday morning, we traveled Our dinner went pretty well. I let the to Marlette where we ate dinner with my kids sit in the living room at our green card in-laws and the kids got the chance to play table and eat their food while they finished with their cousins for a little bit. We didn’t stay as long as we might have liked because watching a Barbie movie. I sat at the dinner table and watched “Wall-E” on my iPod my wife was scheduled for a shift at WalMart on Friday. Theresa did manage to take Touch, but it wasn’t long before the kids advantage of some of the Black Friday sales figured out what I was doing. It’s funny to that morning. Put simply, she made out like a think that we were all crowded around the bandit: couple movies, a bunch of pajamas, little screen on my iPod when I could have new parkas for each of us, as well as some just as easily put in the DVD version and other stuff. She left at six in the morning and watched the same movie on the television. Ah, the wonders of technological progress! returned by eight o’clock, while I was still snoring away in bed. Post a Comment The rest of Friday was less than stellar. Kayla played at the neighbor’s house. Josh almost had a friend over to our house, but he was so cranky that it didn’t really work out. Then Josh napped for the rest of the afternoon. I dozed on the couch with him for

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News

Looking for my “Muse” I’m not sure what’s happened to me. Back when I was in high school, and even when I was in college I could sit down and punch out a twenty or thirty paged story in a month without any trouble at all. Of course, none of those stories were exactly publishable . . .but it was a great source of enjoyment for me, and an excellent outlet. Now when I write creatively, I struggle with every sentence, even the phrasing within the sentences. I have a pretty good idea of what’s happened: with so much else going on in my life, I neglected my passion for writing and eventually started to lose it. There are also times when I wonder if I have so much to say that it all gets stuck somewhere between my brain and my fingers. A third factor is that I might be afraid to write what I really want to say. This is something that I believe I am slowly getting over by telling myself that I really shouldn’t care what other people think of what I write—what’s important is that I’ve written it. That might be the missing element which helped me write so much when I was still in my early twenties: I just sat down and wrote without worrying if it was going to be any good. So, here I am writing about how I’ve missed writing. Post a Comment

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