Making it to my writing space is comprised of several mini-adventures which must be embarked on successively.
To do them out of sequence will most certainly stop this incorrigible, anal old coot dead in his tracks with eyes in the fixed what-the-heck blank stare. So far, a slight slap on the forehead usually snaps me out of a temporary senior moment, happily springing me back to proceed with my early a.m. quixotic quest. Luckily, these deer-caught-in-headlights moments are still few and far between. “What if they become more frequent?” I sometimes wonder. Hysteria might kick in and forehead slapping till red and raw may not be enough anymore to jolt me back to reality. I do muse about this foreboding condition. Must it require intervention by doctor or a psychiatrist? But, I am digressing.
Mini-adventure #1: Right out of the gate is brew my one and only cup of coffee per day immediately after getting out of bed. In seasonally bare or stockinged feet, I dawdle to the kitchen with the hope that the light timer has already turned the kitchen lights on or, if I’m lucky, will kick in just as I get to my point of destination (a childish who-goes-first sort of game). Two scoops of ground coffee into filter, add a cup of water, and turn on the brewing machine. In same cup, add some sugar and coconut-flavored creamer and put in microwave for a 15-second nuking later. Hmmm… a final pause to check whether I miss anything at this juncture.
Mini-adventure #2: While the coffee machine gurgles away, I gingerly inch my way, a la Audrey Hepburn in “Wait Until Dark”1, to my pitch-dark den to blindly reach for the light switch on a cable which is permanently attached to the already crowded power strip by my computer desk floor. With my pupils instantly constricting to some heavenly light, I stretch out to turn on the desk top computer screen and tower, iPhone, and MacBook, 3 wonders of modern e-technology which will certainly make me go bonkers should any or all act up, not to mention throw the world into global chaos.
Mini-adventure #3: By rote, I then feed the hungry goldfish in my nearby indoor 30-gallon aquarium (all 11 of them, not one less or more, since like the Japanese, I too turn my nose up on even numbers2). I watch with wonder as aptly named by virtue of their size, color, and shape, Sag, Goldie, Clown, Hump, Elsa, Beauty, Baldie, Bow, Paul, PJ, and Othello snarf up floating fish pellets. Must be nice to just swim in a controlled, safe, and well-sustained environment. But whether they are really free to do what they want sometimes fascinates me.
Mini-adventure #4: With the smell of coffee arousing my nostrils, I amble back to the kitchen to pour newly-brewed coffee to the newly-nuked warm cup. The pouring process must be of such precision that the final drop successfully makes it inside the cup without spilling. Oh, there are times when it does spill, but a nearby roll of paper towels can easily take care of that.
Mini-adventure #5: While sipping energizing caffeine, I march back to my already lit den, pull out the computer desk chair, wiggle my butt on it to find the right comfortable match between my gluteus maximus and the seat cushion, as well as, sway my middle torso against back of the chair in search of the right support for my spine. Once the right combinations are successfully made, I smile since the laboratory discard chair still provides perfect support after all these years. Who says I am a hoarder?
Mini-adventure #6: Sort out stuff on my computer desk. Rarely do I see the top of my desk top since defensively covering it are I-dare-you-not-touch-me stuff such as: homemade Japanese-inspired lamp, scanner, retractable LED lamp, two computer speakers, lacquered round myrtle paper weight, small around alarm clock and artisan-made pencil/pen/anything clay holder. I then momentarily stop to allow my eye muscles to rest a bit before I continue to locate the whereabouts of the rest: wireless mouse, Allsop mousepad, dish towel, face towel, paper, MacBook, iPhone, and a sprinkling of dust here and there (whew!). You might quizzically ask why can’t I just clear out the desk making everything so neat and tidy? Well, this procrastinating Aquarian might just do it mañana, but for the moment, a shrug and a “so-what” noise encapsulate my attitude. What is clutter to some, is part and parcel of the adventure to me. So, there!
Final adventure: Moment of truth. Now I sit comfortably in my writing space with eight fingers cushioned securely on correctly assigned keys on keyboard, all poised to do literary magic on a blank Windows document. With frequently slowly-sliding trifocals (some Oriental noses are not made to securely hold glasses/shades), I stare at the screen and ask, “What now, dude?” I allow that query to do its kick start, but invariably, after an almost eternal waiting, catatonia takes over, intertwined with the humming of the aquarium water filter and bubbler, side glimpses of self-portrait on the wall, blinking of lights on cable modem, and whatever other distractions within my central and peripheral vision.
Somehow after what might seem an endless reverie, I magically see visions of me on a flying wooden horse to sword-fight windmills, slay giants, fall in love or in some highfalutin glorious fantasy. All energized, I am now eager and ready to feverishly fill out the blank pages and pages of a Windows document with words, phrases, punctuations that I have never imagined, as I aim for a possible #1 bestseller! But, alas! Despite desperate attempts, the fingers on the keyboard stay immobile; no transformative juice to trigger them; useless tenants squatting on keys.
I sing and hum “The Impossible Dream” as I leave my writing space for another tomorrow.
“Hello, Sag, Goldie, Clown, Hump, Elsa, Beauty, Baldie, Bow, Paul, PJ, and Othello!”
And I’m digressing.
1. Wait Until Dark, Warner Bros/Seven Arts, 1967
2. A Study of Odd and Even Numbers, Yutaka Nishiyama
