Stagnancy

I wrote more when I had children tumbling all around me- laughing and crying and messing things up. When I could not possibly concentrate. More than now, sitting alone at the computer, the only noise the hum of the machine I am typing on. This makes no sense to me. There is something missing that I must recapture.

Driving down 5th street yesterday, I saw 3 boys on skateboards. The skaters don't look much different than they used to: caps turned backward, Vans, sinewy arms in tshirts. As one of them hopped the curb I felt like I could feel their live teenaged energy. I wanted to reach my finger out and stick my finger in that socket and get a jolt of it.

Because although I feel happy, I also feel stagnant. I need to move. I feel old.

Easy to think about things, but not as easy to do them.