So, I was *this* close to throwing in the towel tonight, and admitting I had no idea what I was going to do, and give into exhaustion and just go to bed. I announced this to my other sister, the one that lives with me, and she made one statement, which became the really flimsy basis for…
“I have no idea for the Word of the Day story,” I said, in a haze of fatigue and desperation.
My sister didn’t look like she’d even been listening to my heartfelt crisis. “What do you mean?”
“I’m tired and it’s late and I have no ideas. I hate to give up, though, only five months into the goal of posting something every day this year. I didn’t even make it through half a year. It’s a shame, but, I don’t know what to do, and t’s late, and I need to go to bed.”
“Do what? Give up?” There was a simultanious pang: the hope of absolution mixed with the realization of failure.
“Write a story about not having a story.”
“Huh. ” I paused and thought. “That might work. But, I haven’t even picked a word yet. That’s harder at night. I get pickier for some reason. But, maybe it’d work. It’d work better if I started. Maybe it’ll get better as I get going.” I sat in the chair, and stared at the keyboard. It heckled me.
I noticed that my sister is going to bed. I begin to get jealous. My eyes start to water. I swallow some allergy drugs. I write the intro. The photo booth thing is on Leno tonight, and while I haven’t watched the show pretty much since Jay ousted Conan, I’m a fan of the photo booth thing. It was worth it. That photo booth lady is awesome. The monologue was particularly crappy. I finally find a word, and it looks vaguely promising with the story as it existed in my head an hour ago.
Uh oh. I’ve written half the story, and I have no idea how to put the word into it. I panic. This word doesn’t fit any more! Why did I pick it? Maybe I should go find a new word. 11:30. Crap. No time for that.
Wait a second. That’s it. Having picked a word, I became afraid to use it, or worried that I wouldn’t be able to use it. Picking a phobia was brilliant, and I didn’t even know it! I have just had my first bout of teleophobia. Wow. That’s a new one. I hope it’s not like a medical student getting the disease she’s learning about in her studies. Focus! No time for distraction, you got to proof this puppy, and post it in like 12 different forms! No time for your train of thought to derail.
Should I end it here? I’ve talked about the word, it’s in there, yeah, and I’ve got to proof quick, before midnight, yeah. I think this is as good a place to stop as any. Time to wrap her up, toss in some concluding paragraph, do the posty bit, and sleep. Sweet, wonderful sleep.
I felt like I was writing an episode of 24, this getting down on the screen in real time, and a pretty accurate peek into how most of these stories go.
teleophobia / tel – LEO – fobe – a / a dread of definite plans.