This is a Test

I am testing to see if I can use Google Docs to publish items to my blog.

If I can, it will make publishing to the blog a little easier. No more email files back and forth between work and home. I can work things up in Google Docs and publish from there.

Let's see how things go.

Writing Prompt - #5

The Prompt:

"Take two people who dislike each other and stick them in the backseat of a cab. What happens?"

(CWP #80)

The Rules:

1) 90 minutes to work on a response

2) All 90 minutes have to be done at once (no breaking it up over two days, etc.)

3) My response will be posted Friday or Saturday evening

Response Failure

I guess I'm falling down on my plan to complete a prompt and response each week. I got so frustrated that I had fallen three weeks behind posting a response to Prompt #4 that I simply threw it up online in it's incomplete form.

There wasn't anything really left to do. I had broken all the rules I set for myself in writing my response. So it was time to cut and move on.

I will post Prompt #5 later today with plans on getting back on schedule this week.

If can't write one 90-minute response a week how am I going to to write 50,000 words in the 30 days of November?

Things don't look so good right now.

Writing Prompt Response - #4

My response to writing prompt #4

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A funny thing happened on the way to work; I decided I wasn’t going there. The decision wasn’t planned or thought out ahead of time. I found myself hesitating at the intersection where I would normally turn right and head north to the train station. My instinct told me to turn left. To do something different. To finally zig where I had been zagging for years.

My responsible side instructed me to turn right, but the emotional side argued that turning left was the correct choice this morning.

I wanted to succumb to the impulse; make the turn left and head south to points unknown. I was tired of the same old every day. The same trip into the city on the train, the day toiling away in an over-air conditioned corporate tomb, the mobs of people scurrying around like rats fleeing their offices to dash home, only to repeat the drudgery all over again the next day. I needed the break.

But how would I explain this to Heather? The office was easy. A simple call in explaining a sudden sickness – with me or the kids – would smooth things over there. I long ago realized that I was no more critical to the machinations of the company than the chair I sat on. If there was an emergency there were plenty of other people who could step up and take care of things.

Today I wanted to be a real break from the monotony. A true vacation from life. That meant Heather and the kids couldn’t know about it. A day left up completely to my impulses. I would travel where I wanted to, eat where and when the mood struck, and do whatever caught my fancy. So Heather had to still think that I was at work.

For once having a job with a ninety minute commute would come in handy. Heather expected communication silence from the time I left the house in the morning to at least when I got to my desk downtown, so no worries there. And as for the rest of the day, as long as I checked my voice mail at the office regularly I could play off any messages she left as me being away from my desk for a meeting or some such excuse. The distance makes it easy to lie. It’s not like she can just drop in for a surprise visit; especially when she’s made her aversion to driving downtown clear.

But what if the stars are aligning just right, Satan is pulling out his long underwear, the Cubs are battling for the pennant, and someone at the office stumbles into an emergency issue that they actually need to talk to me about? I can’t have them calling home. My day of hooky will be ruined. The office will know that I wasn’t really home sick. I minor infraction that may make the situation at work uncomfortable for a day or two, but wouldn’t land me in any serious hot water. It’s not like no one has every provided a lie to get out of work before.

No, the bigger gotcha would be Heather. It will be months before I would be able to explain myself sufficiently to Heather for her to understand my impulsive decision to take a “me” day. It’s not that she wouldn’t understand playing hooky for a day, she is all for that. We are always working to find ways to free ourselves from the XXXX of being parents for a few hours for personal re-charging.

No, the difficulty that I would face with Heather would be explaining the rashness of this decision. The suddenness of it.

Writing Prompt - #4

The Prompt:

"A funny thing happened on my way to . . ."

(CWP #49)

The Rules:

1) 90 minutes to work on a response

2) All 90 minutes have to be done at once (no breaking it up over two days, etc.)

3) My response will be posted Friday or Saturday evening

Writing Prompt Response - #3

My response to writing prompt #3

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Give me an option of rainy day types; my preference will always be for waking to a rainy autumn day. Spring and summer days covered in rain clouds are weighted down with high humidity and hot temperatures. A mixture I prefer to avoid.

A rainy autumn day is a working man’s gift. Cool, grey, and wet outside, it’s the perfect opportunity – and excuse - to escape inside and do nothing of consequence. In fact, an urge to slip into extended hibernation is what will usually keep me buried deep in bed long into a rainy morning.

Eventually the covers must be tossed aside, either by force of will or force of children, so that I might stand and face the day. On most mornings this would mean preparing for work or gearing up for the tasks set before me. But a rainy day provides the excuse to delay these projects just a little longer.

I can muster no desire to work on a cold and wet morning. No one does. The dark somber sky, complimented by the rhythmic patter of rainfall on glass has a soothing effect. Rainy days are for recharging.

What can I do inside?

Pull out some old comics to leaf through in the bedroom. Settle into the couch while the kids pack themselves in beside me to see what cartoons I’m watching. Evaluate Turner Classic Movie’s offering for the afternoon to see what holds promise. When do the football games begin?

Those are my rainy days.

Writing Prompt - #3

The Prompt:

What do you do on a rainy day? Write about it in 250 words.

(CWP #49)

The Rules:

1) 90 minutes to work on a response

2) All 90 minutes have to be done at once (no breaking it up over two days, etc.)

3) My response will be posted Friday or Saturday evening