I Could Be Something Great (If I Ever Got Out Of Bed)

I do some of my best writing at night.

In bed.
In my mind.

Complete essays. Deep insight. Intriguing theories.

Introduction.
Body.
Conclusion.

I can picture the written word clearly. I visualize the paragraphs, use good transitional sentences, and correct my grammar. I think of different opening lines and optional closing remarks. I convince myself that I'll remember it all in the morning and eventually drift off to sleep.

Then I wake up and remember nothing.

Oh, I remember tidbits here and there. It's like catching a glimpse of something great, like maybe the sun trying to peek through dark curtains on a dreary day, but never quite grasping the full, glorious picture. Such a mental block climbs beyond frustration. I really should get up when inspiration strikes, but that bed is too darn warm.

Such is the price of laziness.

Last night's masterpiece included a response to a recent blog I read via Pinterest. The young author presented her ten (or maybe fourteen?) surefire steps to a happy, healthy marriage. This female optimist has been married for three (or maybe five?) years and has no children. Judging from the pictures that accompanied her post, she and her husband are fresh out of college, attractive as in that athletic way, and in love with the world and everyone around them.

And if you know me, you can only imagine the thoughts that ran through my mind.

Well, okay... my thoughts were not that dire. I'm all for optimistic love. Really. I was there once, too. I'm still in love with the man and with the hope that never ends and with the knowledge that my God says it will all work out in the end. Life has a way of throwing those curve balls at you, though. Things you never saw coming. Things that if you had saw coming you might have cashed it in then for fear that you would never make it out alive.

But you do make it out. A little more beat up. Maybe some bruises. Definitely a scar or two. A war story all your own.

The husband says he thinks things are about to change for us. Maybe the tide is turning. He's been deep in his Bible of a night. Maybe he's reading about the end times. Maybe he's reading about Job. I don't ask. That's between him and the Lord and a direct violation of Optimistic Young Wife's Advice in Tip Number Seven (or maybe Tip Number Nine?). According to her, I'm suppose to ask him his thoughts on a daily basis.

Chuckle. Chuckle.

She'll learn and she'll tweak her own tips as the years progress and babies come and money goes. I should know. I tweak my own internal advice on a daily basis. I expect the unexpected.

And I've not been disappointed.

Now if I'd only get out of bed and transfer those nighttime writings from my mind to paper, I might actually get somewhere... and make a whole lot more sense in the process.