Preamble: OK, may I write this now in peace? I've had a comedy of errors thing going on with a piece of paper that fell into my keyboard. It was tiny and stuck there between a couple of the keys. Everything I tried to get it out with, it kept going lower and lower. I used a pen, a toothpick, nothing would work. I flipped it over and gravity wasn't even any help. And I was thinking, we don't have any force more reliable than gravity. Day and night gravity's at work, and you never have to change the batteries or plug it in. So gravity's usually better than a cellphone, let's say, but in this case gravity isn't working and my cellphone's fully charged.
Then I had to jump up to change a record I was recording. Plus, it's breakfast, and my fingers are greasy from leftover pizza. Need to wipe them off. Then the first two or three attempts at typing my "y" key appeared not to work, or maybe I was missing it. If this is what my day is going to consist of today, I might just go back to bed and tell anyone who asks, Grandma, that I'm sick.
Body: I know I've been talking about ending my hiatus, and I know I will one of these days. I'm going to stick the knife in and turn it. Actually I'm going to be a lot more violent than that. I'm going to stick the knife in. I might do it like a bullfight, where I have a lot of little darts with tail feathers on them. I'm going to bury about 10 swords in it all the way to the hilt. I'm going to collect its blood in about 10 cups. I'm going to batter it about the head with about 10 clubs. And I'm going to make it see about 10 stars over its head. Who am I?
My hiatus has made itself at home around the house. Like I said the other day it has reached the proportions of the Blob, from the old movie. It's so big and so amorphous, I'm thinking that when I bury the 10 swords they might indeed be buried. His gastric juices might dissolve them and all that will come out in the end is some gummy metallic waste. To kill a thing like that that possibly can't be killed will be a challenge.
But today I'm not that concerned with killing it. Today I'm thinking it's all not so bad. Why should I worry about it? It's time off. It's companionship. It's a reason to get up in the morning? To see what it's doing and what might be next for me. Yes, I know I'm stagnating, that life is passing me by. And that continuing on with my hiatus like this is only depriving me of the better things of life. Now I know what Hugh Hefner feels like everyday, only I can't afford a bevy to take my mind off my suffering.
But, hey, this is something, isn't it? I'm sitting here, now that I've got my keyboard situation straightened out, clacking away. This is something. No one can deny it that my hiatus has brought its own groove. In a roundabout way it's been fulfilling, fulfilling with a twist. Anything I need to say -- it's just like that Kindergarten guy who learned everything he needed to know in Kindergarten, so was able to drop out in first grade and actually get a diploma -- I can say by relating it to my hiatus.
It was just theoretical. I used to think this. That I could take anything. Anything. Name something. Living in a tree house. I could take the concept of living in a tree house and relate everything in life to it. I could have a whole blog based on me living in a tree house. So the tree house is your center. There's vital things coming up to you, vital things coming down to you, and obviously you have the surroundings. Now that I think of it that's almost too easy. It'd be easier than relating everything to your hiatus, which itself is quite easy.
Let's think of that Kindergarten guy again. He did it and made a lot of money in the process, which, since Kindergarten was his whole thing, they say, he promptly spent on candy, crayons, and all the playhouses he wanted. He wrote his book in record time, which was quite an achievement, since his bedtime was 7 o'clock and he spent all morning working on phonics. But let's think of him. He could relate everything in life to his stunted growth as a Kindergartner. I don't begrudge him his fetish. He was very successful with it. But I've always felt a little sorry for him in spite of the success, because there are some great things in the other grades that he missed out on. Like the train ride they take you on in 2nd grade.
So, it can be done. I didn't do a tree house thing or a school grade thing. I went on hiatus. And that's been enough to keep me busy. I've been inspired. Like today. I've got my groove on. I'm feeling my writer oats. I'm cutting the linguistic mustard.
I will be ending the hiatus -- and I keep thinking it's going to be sooner rather than later. Again, I'm looking for an auspicious day. I don't want it to drag on forever, and it won't. I definitely don't want to use it for a crutch, like I don't have anything to say outside this one thing. Because I believe I do.