Friday, March 30, 2012

Five Minute Friday: The Wrong Prompt

Well, this is a little embarassing.  I opened up Word and set my timer for five minutes and free-wrote about "quiet" which I thought was the prompt for this you can see, it is NOT.  But I don't have another five minutes, so I'm just gonna go with it.  I'm blushing.  All the way onto my chest, I feel so stupid.  

Instructions from the Gypsy Mama...

Want to play Five Minute Friday? It’s easy peasy!
1. Write for 5 minutes flat on the prompt- no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Meet & encourage someone who linked up before you.
OK, are you ready? Give us your best five minutes on:



But I did quiet, so:


Quiet? Is this a joke?

I barely remember the concept of quiet.  I certainly can’t remember what it was like to actually HAVE some quiet.

Quiet? I’m actually snorting with a mixture of condemnation and envy.  Quiet.  Work.  When I worked, I had quiet.  Quiet on the night shift.  Peeking from room to room, the lights in the halls dimmed, nice and quiet as I went about my duties, caring for people who needed me.

Somehow, now that I stay home and have to care for people who need me, it doesn’t feel the same.

It should.

Wow.  This is sort of an epihpony.  Who knew?

Even when I left floor nursing and worked in the infusion center, with all the hustle and bustle that comes with administering toxic chemicals into central lines, even then, I had a sort of quiet.  My desk, my stool, my haunches as I squatted in front of a patient to start a line, all the while I was usually either running my mouth or listening to the four patients in my care run theirs…even still, it was quiet.

I miss work.  I knew I would, but I had no idea it would feel like this.

I never have quiet.  My kids, even when they are ‘being quiet’ are still making noise.  Even drawing breath sometimes is the loudest sound you’ve ever heard.  It’s nerve racking.  It’s like nails on a chalkboard. 


Sometimes I enjoy listening to all their noise.  Their laughter, squeals of excitement.  Their steady snoring at night.  The sounds it makes above me when I’m in the living room and they’re leaping out of bed to start their days because, to them, quiet sucks, quiet is for the birds, they’re still excited about life, mundane details are fun and wondrous and new.  They like noise. They


Hmm.  That wasn't what I thought I would write.  And I want to end by confessing that even though Nick's job sucks balls, there isn't a second of the day that I'm not insanely jealous that he gets to leave this house, go somewhere else, and have quiet.  Ugh.

1 comment:

  1. i feel you. i've been out of work for 6 weeks and don't see how you do it. especially for someone who loved their job (like me and you)...i start back monday. i have to say, God finally granted me the grace to enjoy the time home, but i'm excited to get back. its bittersweet. i feel like i got to know harper in a way that i hadn't before and for that i am so thankful, but you know...its good to work. you're doing a great job. seriously.