Sufficing The Inner Writer

Lord, it feels like I've inhabited as many homes on the internet as I have in real life. (Wait, internet isn't real life?) I changed my personal blogging space, to our space (though my husband never uses it), because we're newlyweds now and everyone is dying to know the answer to that age-old question only asked of newlyweds, though no one ever knows quite how to answer. "So, how's married life?" Well, I'll tell you there. Or rather, I'll tell you as much as what exists on the surface and maybe a little bit deeper. I've only dug so far, mostly because that type of blogging lends itself to updates on goings-on and maybe some thoughtful insight here and there. And I say here and there, because things have been a little spotty lately.

I've missed writing.

I've missed thinking about writing.

I've missed using a blog as a labratory for writing ideas.

So this is my attempt to bring it back and wipe away the forlorn look on my inner writer's face as she sulks at her tiny desk in the corner of my mind. Crumpled piles of paper litter the floor beside her tapping feet which she uses to remind me that she's still alive and waiting for that freedom, or at least the sense of freedom to just go with it.

I hope to patch things up, soon, starting with a nice strong homemade latte with a thick layer of foam, just the way she likes it. Because does not coffee satisfy the inner writer in us all?