Give Me a Reason

The only reason I’m out of bed, this morning, is that I have the urge to write.  I got up.  God dressed.  Took meds.  Fed cat.  Ate raisin bran.

Now I sit in front of this computer trying to decide what I want to write about.  I need to finish up the invoice for December for my homeschool student.  I need to send him his holiday practice (it’s one page – super easy – possibly even fun – don’t lynch me).

But that’s not writing.  That’s work.  I feel guilty when I do things for myself when I have obligations outstanding.

So then I remind myself that I deserve an opportunity to write for pleasure.  I want to create a blog with advice for young people and to express my thoughts on being disabled in an ablest society.   I think having lived 40+ years as a relatively healthy person and then being thrust into the life of a disabled person at 46 give me some unique perspectives.

And now I’m back after a several minute detour to read about seizures and epilepsy.  I miss my normal brain.