This was my prompt: Work on the other hand. Pick a medium you’re comfortable with, then work with your nondominant hand – if you usually favor your right hand then only use your left and vice-versa.
But - . This is completely impossible. How do I even begin to find inspiration from that? I could write with my left hand, but it’d be completely unreadable. I could think with my left or right brain, but I don’t know which I use most often to begin with. So I am using today as a free day and simply just writing. Is this cheating on my 100 day challenge?
It feels like a breath of fresh air, not having to conform to a prompt, twist my mind into something that would fit into a jar or a space on the page, but then again, I also feel lost. I should ask you readers to provide me a prompt, you start a sentence and I’ll finish it, but that would never happen, because no one ever comments. Do you have a voice? Can you be heard? Can you speak? Neither could I, until I realized.
So, I guess today I will just catch you up on the ramblings of my life.
The air is getting heavy with warmth as spring turns to summer in less than 24 hours. The mosquitoes have created a pokeadotted pattern all over my legs and my mind is obsessed with ticks creeping and crawling on my body, real life vampires. It is officially summer in Raleigh. And the weather forecast proves it with 90 plus degree days for the entire week. Part of me has been waiting, urning for the heat of the summertime. The other part of me has not. That part has been urning for the bugless cool air of the Appalachian mountains. Will I ever go back?
This will be my first summer back in the Piedmont. I have not spent an entire summer here since 2006. Can I survive?
The air conditioning in my rental is broken. I have been forcing my frugal ways on my roommates since April, refusing to turn on the AC, explaining to them the unnecessary need for AC in May, but alas it has become summer and I could no longer convince two men with sweat dripping down their brows, that it was comfortable in the house, but really, I was comfortable. So, we shut all the windows and turned on the air, only to watch the thermometer rise from 79 to 80 to 81 to 82. The guys were not happy and I was once again reminded of the mountains. Will I ever stop longing for the Appalachians?
On Sunday night I woke up to the most beautiful thunderstorm. I have no idea what time it was since I had forgotten to put back on my watch after my evening shower. I keep waking up to lightning and thunder then falling back asleep only to be awakened a few minutes or hours later. It reminded me of the afternoon thunderstorms in Boone where the rain fell in giant drops and soaked everything almost instantly. When will everything stop making me think of Boone?
It is Monday and I am back at work.
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