Whew. That's really all I have to say. I've been kind of worried about myself lately. With all the work I have to do, I keep waiting for my brain to kick into its special "go" mode, but it just hasn't been happening. Where is my Magic?
This is how it usually works. When I have a paper due, the monologue in my head goes "Blah, blah, moan, moan, unk, unk, shwoosh, shwoosh, groan, moan, whine, blah blah blah," until just the exactly right moment, when all the sudden something clicks into place and I think "OH HOLY SHIT, I'VE GOT IT NOW! GO! GO-GO-GO-GO-GO!" I like to think that my Magic is just chilling out up there, slowly stirring, mixing, fermenting, waiting for just the right moment to deliver that potent chemical cocktail of three parts panic, two parts inspiration, and one part genius. And when I drink that glorious tonic, it's like my brain does a hot little cha-cha with maracas. God, I love my Magic. In a burst of glory and sunshine, it pours out of my head, onto the written page, and into the annals of history. Ta-daaaaaaa!!! LOOK, WORLD, AT WHAT I HAVE CREATED!!!
I rely on my Magic. I don't understand him, but he has yet to fail me. But lately, he hasn't been there for me. I just wrote an entire paper, every word of which felt like pulling molars with red-hot pincers. It's done, but gah. It took twice as long as I thought it would, and it just wasn't any FUN, dammit! And now I've got two more to do, and frankly, I've been a little worried. Was my Magic gone? Was he flirting with somebody else? Should I feel betrayed?
Nope. Maybe he was on vacation. Out to lunch, definitely. But gone? No way. Just when I was feeling desperate, low, uninspired, cranky, and on the verge of giving up, in came my Magic. And, oh, was he cool. He sauntered in, jacket slung over one shoulder, hat cocked over his eye, popping his suspender straps and smiling a wicked little grin.
"Oh, Magic," I gushed, "You're back! Thank God, I've missed you so. I thought I would die without you! Never leave me again!" I threw myself on his broad shoulder. "Oh, baby," he crooned, "quit this nonsense. You know I'll never leave you. Now let's get to work."
So we did. I sat myself down on his lap, and my fingers flew. Every time I felt a little lost, every time I started to hesitate, Magic just leaned a little closer, and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. Ten pages later, I think it's time to stop and take my Magic out for a margarita. We can work some more tomorrow.
Happy Cinco de Mayo!