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Another Sunday Morning

Wait, is it still morning? Yes, it is. I have 4 minutes till morning is over.
When I wake up every morning what nags at me is my asthma. Yes, it really sucks when you suck at breathing. So I get up to use the bathroom and then take my Breo and my Spiriva. And if it still feels like my chest is hurting I go ahead and take two puffs of my rescue inhaler.
My daughter usually gets up when I get up. She has not left my bed yet. But that’s okay.
I go to the kitchen to pour two mugs of coffee from the carafe which my husband lovingly programmed the night before. Make sure the temperature is right so I don’t burn my tongue which I have done a lot in the past. Bring him one to his bedside then go to my office to try to get through 1500+ emails (which I never get through, that’s why it stay in the thousands).
Eventually, my daughter will scream “I’m hungry.” I guess something she never shed after weaning (you see that’s the gift of breastfeeding, all you have to do is pick her up, put her on my breast, and then she’s good for the next time she cries).
I do a couple of chores around the house. It’s always the laundry and the dishes. “It’s perpetual,” my husband would say. And finally, my body screams, “I want a bath!”
After I get out of the bathtub I attempt to get through my 1500+ emails again and I read a couple things on Medium and I’m inspired!
“Be consistent.” Some writing blogs would say.
“Write 100 words every day.” Another popular blog says.
And then my son comes out of the bathroom and says, “Mom! Why are you naked?” I turned around from reading my emails and say, “because I haven’t gotten around to putting on clothes yet.” He laughs and walks on to his bedroom.
So there it is. A Sunday morning and I wrote.
That’s an accomplishment!

This piece was also published on Medium.


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