What’s funny is, I used to not write. I loved it, but didn’t do it. I’d go months thinking about it—like a lover across the sea I couldn’t touch. I romanticized and idealized, falling madly deeper into a delusion. Head over heels with an idea.
Which was fine, except I wasn’t actually writing. Now I do. Daily. No ifs, ands, or buts. And it’s different. It’s real. It’s annoying and great all at once. The romantic appeal—the “first night with an anticipated lover” glow—has lost its sheen. Now me writing and are like an old ball and chain.
Right now, I’m doing anything but my progress notes. Making an offer on a Marketplace patio table (I undercut their $100 price by $40). Texting a funny “How to Hang a Spoon” book cover to my friends Reid and Paul with the message “Thinking of you.” Using my fingernails to scratch a particularly itchy spot on Archie as he presses into me. All the while, wondering when I’ll get to my notes.
Last night, I had a rare nightmare. After an already scary one, I fell back asleep and slipped right back into the same dream—but worse. A suspicious dark shadow lurked in the upper window. In the first dream, they were mini-sized, but in the second, they were large, right next to me, attacking. That suffocating, frozen feeling—knowing I had to scream but couldn’t. I tried with all my might. Finally, my real voice worked, jolting me awake—and Dave, too.
Having him alert and awake was nice. Usually, when that happens, I wake with a start while Dave sleeps on. But since my volume broke the sleep barrier, I could skip feeling guilty for waking him and go straight into details and hugs.
I watched a video of Matthew McConaughey explaining about the time he told his agent that he no longer wanted to do romantic comedies. The next script he got was exactly that. The offer started at $8 million and climbed to $14 million. Rereading the script – with more money in mind – suddenly sounded so much better. The doubled paycheck tempted him—but ultimately, he said no. After that, he was taken seriously, landing Lincoln Lawyer, Magic Mike, Mud, and True Detective.
I was drawn to that interview because I’ve read his autobiography Greenlights and appreciated his philosophy, work ethic, and the choices he made at tough moments—choices that defined his career and his personal journey.
Tonight it’s my turn to sleep with Evelyn. Every other week, Dave and I swap—Evelyn gets a special night with one parent and then the other in the guest bedroom. If she had her way, we’d all be bunking together, but thankfully, Dave and I get a say. That’s a big no-way, especially since her alligator-twisting, velcro-ing little self makes for a restless sleep all around.
Alright, I’d better get going. She’s far too tuned into my typing, and I need to lessen her distractions.
Take care.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 