I was going to title this post "A Trial Separation." But it's more than that.
So I stole the title from C.S. Lewis (the mark of any good writer...plagiarism) as it was a more accurate description.
Towards the end of summer, I allowed myself during brief moments to think about the long, yawning hours of quietude and solitude that were coming. I thought about going back to school. (Nursing, I thought. After all, motherhood has prepared me in the arts of blood and vomit and, especially, poo.) I thought about going back to work. (Teaching, I surmised. But only part-time, as I still have a full-time gig here, only the hours have changed.) I thought about volunteering. (But then I remembered my whole life has been volunteer work. I needed a change.)
And then I thought about the one thing that I haven't allowed myself to think about.
The little dream on hold.
The writing dream.
The little dream I thought I'd never really get to. (Perhaps even hoped I'd never really get to. Excused out of failure, see?)
And in an act of supreme courage and wild daring, I bought a writing table.
And this week I separated Berni and O'Dell.
In order to make my intentions loud and clear. (Mostly to myself.)
Now there's nothing for it but to try, and Berni and O'Dell have resorted to yelling across the room. Right now they're both hoarse and more than a little ticked off at me, but I told them to give it some time. It's only the first week after all. It's new for all of us.
I also told them on the plus side now they can roll their eyes at each other when I start losing it. I can already hear the "I told you so's", but, for now, I am firmly ignoring them.
For his part, David is trying to restrain his curiosity. (Which he has never been good at.) He keeps walking by the room, wondering what's happening between these two and hiding his mild interest at their apparent separation, but also being wise enough not to ask too many questions.
As for me, I am trying to remain hopeful. (See the first four lines.) However, I don't really think too much of a writer who uses this many parentheses in one post.
(11, including this one.)
(By the way, if you ever bring this post up in real life I'm going to pretend I don't know what you're talking about.)