Friday, August 20, 2010

The Muse's Ally: A Fond Remembrance

As I've stated before, my Muse is a silly, capricious thing.  I often imagine she's beribboned and dressed in pastels, with long, flowing tawny hair and laughing eyes.  She has a full life outside the work she does for me, so she treats her time with me as a volunteer thing; she shows up when she wants and gets done what she needs, then leaves for her Muse social gatherings and shopping excursions.

Again, as I'm a volunteer/charity case, she doesn't come when I want, but only when she wants, and if she shows up and the place for her in my head is in shambles, she will often pout disapprovingly, wander around for a minute in sulky silence, then depart when my back is turned.  It may be weeks before I see her again, and that time is spent in sackcloth and ashes, and there is much gnashing of teeth and wailing.  Well, at least spiritually.

So what causes that Muse Spot to be in shambles?  Lately, it's been a profound sleep deficit.  I know personally plenty of people who can get by with 5-6 hours of sleep and not only function, but thrive.  I am not one of those blessed souls.  I need AT LEAST 7 hours.  Anything less begins the slide into a state of zombie existence, where my eyes are open and I'm going through the motions, but I'm not enjoying anything or even actively participating in anything.  All I can do is wish for sleep and despair over it getting any better.

As such, my Muse is ignoring me.  I don't blame her.  I've been an anxious, angsty mess lately.  I could punk out and demand my right as a woman to have my emotional moments, but that's not exactly going to win me any points with her.

A breakthrough to report:  Last night I DID sleep.  My Muse's ally came to me, took pity on me, and soothed me away.  I did wake in the night, but I was able to get back into the Land of Nod. 

This is just the beginning, surely.

So Muse, if you're reading this:  Come on back.  Your room is straightened and my manuscript awaits.  Hell, I'll even let you break something.  

1 comment:

  1. I don't function on less than seven, either. I'm okay with eight, but usually aim for nine to ten. I probably love to sleep too much.

    Your head sounds like a lovely hotel you've just renovated. You muse could be one of those artsy prima donna regulars who demands the penthouse suite, and often ruins something in the midst of her creative output. It does sound like a lovely place to stay, and I'm sure it won't be long before she's checking in again, soaking up the all that attention your bellhop and concierge have to offer.