Just Your Typical 4:32 am Post

They say if you’re a writer you will write. “You will find time,” they say. They say, “Just write a little bit every day.” Some set alarms to wake up early to write for an hour before the baby gets up. Some wake up at 4:32 every day now and don’t need alarms. Who needs an alarm when you have a human alarm clock, alarming you every few hours of the night?

I wonder if my mom or your mom or our grandmothers were plagued with the compulsion to get up and write at 4:32 am. I doubt it.

This scintillating and fascinating post that is so important it must be written at 4:32 am is being written via iPhone. Because I don’t have the luxury of quietly slipping out of bed to write. My baby sleeps beside me in our one bedroom apartment and guards my every waking night move like a tiny jail guard. I better not wake him lest he will respond with a howl and fine me one boob. So I don’t. Instead, I peck silently into a mini creativity releasing new post. Is this what creativity is? This word dump? For me, yeah, I guess so. For now.

One thing that gives me comfort is knowing that all over this city and this world, other mothers are doing the same, in the thousands if not millions. They are cutting patterns, reading, dreaming up plans, writing novels, tidying their homes and releasing those creative endorphins that get back piled up after days of playing, changing, fretting, walking, living with a baby. I choose to tap some tepid thoughts into an iPhone. At 4:32 am. That’s my creative contribution slash outlet. For today. For now. I also tweet. I have dreams. Big dreams. I have goals. Plans. Ideas. Thoughts. Work to do. Big works. Huge, in fact! I am not nobody. I’m somebody. And I’ll prove it. One day. One day soon maybe. Or maybe not for many years. Or maybe never at all. But for now, I’m doing what I said I’d do, what I told myself I’d do. I’m writing. At 4:32 am. I’m writing this little post and this counts. It matters. It’s gas to get me to the next day, through the next day.

Baby twitches and sighs beside me. Light is bothering him. Time to go, for now, or face the consequences. See you again next time, thoughts and dreams.

 

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