That person over your shoulder doesn’t exist. The one who sees the words flow through your mind and sneers before you have a chance to type them. Don’t pretend that you’re not alone right now. You are your only critic.
The house is empty. The sun is out. It’s a perfect day for you. All your favorite things, all rolled up into one. Golden leaves shimmering in the fall breeze. It doesn’t get any better than this. The curtains are drawn and you have a clear view of the thing you love the most. Why won’t you make the most of it?
No distractions. Quiet. Your partner is away and the dogs are at his ex’s. How much better can it get than this? You don’t even have little ones to tend to, begging you to give them attention. You are utterly, truly alone. So why don’t you write something, already?
You could paint. Why not? Pull out the colors and the brushes. Place the canvas on top of the drop cloth to protect the table. You could get up right now and go get those things. Why won’t you? Why won’t you stand up and go get the things that bring you joy?
Even going out and about. That would be grand. Shop for the new clothes you’ve neglected to buy yourself the last several months. Goodness knows one can only repeat the same five shirts at work for so long before someone notices. Even then they don’t fit right. Why don’t you get dressed and go find some more? No? Why not? Why don’t you get up, already?
What are you waiting for? Don’t live the quiet life of desperation they say is a fate worse than death. Ironic because it is on your deathbed that you’ll think of how much you regretted not getting up. Not going to get your paints. Not writing things down. Not going out and about into the beautiful fall air.
Why don’t you do it, already?