Yes, it’s that time of the year again, the next bloghop is due. This time we’ve got a new (and much nicer, don’t you think?) logo, made by Juneta Key one of the bloghop’s regular authors. For the longest time I didn’t know what to write about until a few days back, I realized that not everybody wakes quite the same way as I do. Naturally, the names of the kids are all made up (to protect their privacy), and I also used a time when they were a lot smaller, but essentially, this is how I get up every morning. I hope you enjoy the story.

A Writer’s Morning

I pull the cover over my head, but it’s suffocating me and it doesn’t shut out the five thirty alarm anyway. I wish I could stay in bed.

“Now, if you take me to the Gruesome Waste, I could be truly heroic. Let me explain,” the main character of my current project says.

Not now, I think. Grumbling, I climb out of bed and use the bathroom. My blood pressure is under the roof already without even listening to the kids’ banter downstairs. How can anyone be so lively this early in the morning? I can’t even muster the necessary strength to remind them to be quiet. I shuffle to the kitchen, prepare coffee for the husband, set the table for those energetic enough to eat, and spread four double slices of bread with butter and anything that’s fresh form the fridge. So far, my packed lunch hasn’t killed anyone – yet.

“Woojee, woojee.” My youngest hugs me. He smells of chocolate and leaves brown stripes on my nighty. “I’m an ambulance.”

“Ambulance,” says my love interest. “Now that’s an idea!”

Not yet! I groan, trying not to be heard by Joey.

“I’m not hungry. Elly made me a toast.” Joey one hugs me again and races off, wailing worse than before. Did I miss a day? Is it a weekend? I gaze at the calendar – no, it’s Wednesday. I’m not wrong. Thanks for that.

“You need to get dressed for school,” The words fall like stones from my mouth. Joey speeds out of the room toward the bath, overtaking Elly on the way. “Me first!”

“Oh, I wish we could have bathrooms,” the antagonist says. “Couldn’t that be my motivation? Bathrooms for all?”

“Not yet!” The tiredness slowly gives way to annoyance.

“How about something to drink?” My husband’s soft voice sounds angelic, calming me instantly. He fills a glass with coffee and milk and puts it beside my plate. A writer’s life juice. I drain it while I stuff lunch boxes into schoolbags and my husband’s briefcase. On the way out, he plants a kiss on my nose that was aimed at my mouth. I stand beside the door like a blade of grass swaying gently. Elly passes me with Joey at her hand. She smiles.

“Will you pick me up in time for swimming?”

“Swimming!” My main character positively beams. “How about me having to find a way through the Gruesome Waste and the only option I seem to have is swimming?”

“Not now.”

“Mom?” Elly’s eyebrows rise.

“Sorry, hon. Of course I’ll be there in time.” I smile back and wave until my tow favorite non-adults vanish around a bent in the road just a few paces from the bus stop. Then, I wait until the bus rounds the corner and wave again. When the dust cloud settles, I turn to get dressed.

“Any ideas welcome,” I say to the characters of my WIP. They remain silent.

Jacko, our dog gets up and stretches. When he was younger, he used to get up with me, excitedly jumping around hoping for a long walk. These days he knows me better.

“Well, what was that about the Gruesome Waste?”

Silence. I look at Jacko. His tail starts wagging when I put on my shoes.

“Well, old boy. Another day, another chance, right?” I breathe the air outside. The freshness of the spring morning will get me going. It always does. And usually, it makes the voices in my head come back.

As I jog into the morning, the voices slowly return, filled with nightly discoveries and fresh ideas that need to be evaluated. All the characters clamor for attention. The dog is happy, and so am I. Soon, I’ll be able to write again. Who said that being an early riser was easy?


I hope you liked this story. If you did, check out my books. Also, have a look at these wonderful stories by my fellow writers:

Unverified, by Erica Damon
Tito’s to the Max, by Chris Makowski
The Boon, by Juneta Key
Sanctuary, by Elizabeth McCleary
Till Death Us, by Fanni Sütő
The Cloud, by Karen Lynn
Data Corruption, by Barbara Lund
Wish Granted, by Kami Bataya
The Witch of Wall Street, by J. Q. Rose
Grim Reapers on a Field Trip, byJ Lenni Dorner
Unwelcome Vistors, by Bill Bush

12 thoughts on “Bloghop”

  1. Kami Bataya says:

    Haha, yep. Mine like to keep me up at night. 🙂

    1. Cat says:

      I’m just too tired for that, and my Muse learned. 😀

  2. Karen Lynn says:

    I love the characters butting in at just the wrong moment. I love them suggesting things like swimming through toxic waste. Sounds like a good kind of hectic.

  3. Bill Bush says:

    How true – our minds are always somewhere else!

  4. Erica Damon says:

    Haha, so accurate, although mine are night owls and like to sleep LATE, even if I’m up.

  5. Juneta says:

    Loved the feel of the ending. Hugs juneta

  6. J.Q. Rose says:

    I can definitely identify with this story! Although my little ones are all grown up now. Cleverly done.

    1. Cat says:

      I’m glad you liked it.

  7. Barbara says:

    Yup. Voices when I don’t want them and silence when I do. 😉

    1. Cat says:

      It happens all the time.

  8. LOL–one for the writers in the room. Ha!

    1. Cat says:

      And for anyone who wants to know how we tick ;D

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