WORK LIFE BALANCE

One day I picked up a pen and couldn’t put it down.  It stuck to my fingers, my mind was invaded by the thoughts I used to have when I read ghost stories by torch light.  They shoved everything else aside.

So, I took some paper, sat down and began writing everything down.  Suddenly this was all I wanted to do, I no longer wanted to go to work, do the housework or go out with my friends.  I called in sick, I sat and wrote, stopping only when I was exhausted or hungry.  Around me the world turned, the dust fell on the previously immaculate shelves, the cats left hairs on the carpet, they mewed for attention and rubbed themselves against my legs, but I didn’t notice.  The phone started to ring, at one point someone came to the door, I didn’t answer.  Dishes piled up in the kitchen, the date of my exam came and passed, letters went unopened.

I had to get the thoughts out, had to set them free and this was the only way I knew how to do it, but the more I wrote, the more ideas I had.

One day I stopped and looked round.  All was silent, the cats had gone, there was water coming through the ceiling, it was bitterly cold because they’d cut the electricity and the gas off.  My boss had stopped phoning, they’d found someone who could concentrate on her work.  I thought maybe I should do something about this, start off small, open a letter or wash a plate ... but when I tried to get up I realised the muscles on my legs had decayed and I couldn’t move, couldn’t shake the pen from my fingers.  So, I carried on writing.