As the cursor blinks...

The daytime drama of a woman, who day after day stares blankly at a white screen, unable to form the words of the story living within her.

Basically I have fallen prey to writer's block also. Maybe it's the spring-like weather outside. I'm too restless to sit in front of a computer and write to my heart's content. I'd rather be riding my bike or walking my dogs to their heart's content. :)

So, I've taken this opportunity to write while I'm stuck at work, and it's too early to begin working. Literally, I got here at 7:10 a.m. because I carpooled with someone who had to be at work before the crack of dawn! I won't name any names...you know who you are.

I look around my desk and wonder what I'll start working on this morning. As I prioritize the projects in my mind, I lose the desire to write down my thoughts. My thoughts consist of work jargon, schedules, research planning, proper forms to be filled out, upcoming meetings. These aren't things my readership would enjoy with a cup of coffee on a Wednesday morning. So why write? Maybe this is why my creative thoughts have soured.

My free time lately has consisted of watching every crime show on television, making supper, cleaning house, and working out at the gym to get that perfect summer body. These aren't things many people would enjoy reading about, I assume. Except maybe if I go into vivid detail about the nightmare that I had last night because of watching CSI before my bedtime. Well, why not, sharing my dreams has gone over well in the past.

Sheldon and I were visiting Alabama for a cousin's birthday in said nightmare. We began the day riding our bikes to a local swimming hole and taking a dive with the rest of the family and friends. I guess we had made the trip to Alabama for more than a cousin's birthday, because we ended up spending the night in a new house.

The new house had been built by a friend of the family's, and he allowed us to stay in the house for a week to try it out...kindof like a test drive. Common with most Alabama summer nights, the clouds rolled in at sundown. It was stormy. We lit some candles to set the mood...the TV-watching, ice cream-eating mood, that is. Sheldon walked in the kitchen to get the ice cream, and noticed something dripping from the wall next to the side of the fridge.

He stooped down and noticed a hole in the wall where the liquid was coming from. He swiped his finger across part of the soggy wall to see what was dripping. It looked red, but he needed to turn the light on to get a better look at it. I strolled in and flicked the light on to see what was taking so long.

"What is that?!" I yelled. Blood was oozing out of the hole, which was jammed with bananas and white t-shirts. Yes, bananas and white t-shirts.

Sheldon pulled the bananas and t-shirts out of the hole, which just made it worse. Clumps of body matter and blood fell out of the wall at a slow, sickening pace. Like bad milk being released from its carton.

Little did we know, the murderers of this obviously destroyed body, had been watching us from the next house. They were staked out in the top floor with lanterns waiting to see if we'd discover the body hidden so discreetly behind bananas and white t-shirts in the main room of the house.

Sheldon seemed shocked. He couldn't move. I said we should call the cops, wait until they got there, then go stay at my mom's house. We called the cops, but I couldn't wait in the house any longer. We stood outside in the pouring rain waiting for them to show up.

The murderers, realizing that we probably discovered the body because normal people don't randomly stand out in the rain, in the dark, awaiting rescue, headed outside to take care of us.

Shaking in the cold rain, holding a jacket over my head, I noticed two men running toward the house. I called for Sheldon, who had run inside to grab a few things.

And then I woke up. Until tomorrow night...