I should really be in bed...

When walking away from having been inspired, how does one just go straight to bed?

One minute I'm rambling on to Matt,

             "I mean really, tell me, what do you think? Because I....2 minutes later...and really, I need to   know your thoughts, because what I'm feeling is SO....2 minutes later....up the stairs....chitter chatter...in the door.....chitter chatter.... "do you think I should even consider pursuing writing? Because if I'm a rotten writer...

Silence. Wheeze in. Wheeze out.....

 and the next minute fast asleep in my bed?

No way, Hosea. Rather, I chit chatted my way to the computer and here I find myself out-letting. Truly a delight. If I were born in the early 1900's, or even the 1800's, I would be dressed in my night gown and night cap, twill and ink in hand, candle light dancing on the walls with my floating thoughts. Maybe I'd even have my own hand ground wheat bread to munch on with the butter that I just churned that day.

As excited and energized as I was when I sat down, I must now....

wheeze in. Wheeze out.

*snore*

P.S.>>Keep your eyes peeled for a new post, Matt's leaving for four days, and as you may recall, this didn't bode well for eating well.