Writing Wrongs

November 10, 2006

So last night, I was snuggling with Kyra. We have to do the �rub back,� and the �comb hair,� and generally, I have to sing the Airborne Ant song. (That�s right. No lullabies for our children. We sing (modified) Army cadences. The Airborne song was Andrew�s favorite, too.) But last night I was really, really tired and saw no harm in snuggling just a bit longer.

I fell asleep. This isn�t such a bad thing, but my entire right leg fell asleep as well. The whole thing, from hip to foot, so when I stood up--

Crash.

I hit the floor, smacked my knee, and wondered what the hell just happened. The noise did not: wake the kids or bring my concerned husband running from the basement.

The leg wasn�t working and wouldn�t for a while. This was clear. I decided to crawl back to my bedroom. There I went, down the hall, on all fours. Nice. I was glad I didn�t wake the kids or bring my concerned husband running from the basement, because it was kind of embarrassing.

Eventually, I made it to the bed and pulled myself up. While I sat there, recovering, I thought: hey, I should remember what this feels like. I could use it in a story.

Did I mention it was really late and I was really tired?

I can see it now. Impending doom. Villain about to triumph. Heroine springs into action. But wait! Her leg is asleep. She can�t move. Story can�t move. Story so boring, it puts all of writer�s limbs to sleep. Go. Save. Yourself.

If you�re concerned about my knee, thank you, it�s fine. If you�re concerned about my sanity, it�s still on the road to recovery.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 1:09 p.m.

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