#spontaneity

#spontaneity

Sex with my wife seems so fraught these days. There's so much baggage. It has to be scheduled. OK, fine. I came on to her last night, but she said, "No, wait until tomorrow when it's scheduled." Then, when the scheduled time arrived, she said she couldn't do it because she had a work call. She also said she doesn't want to do it, but she will do it later to make me happy. That (not enthusiastically consenting sex) doesn't make me happy.

That "one more rep" turned into ten more exercises, each more punishing than the last. By the end, I was convinced my legs had filed for emancipation. My tank top could've been used to mop the floor. And yet... beneath the exhaustion was a wild, inexplicable sense of aliveness. As we collapsed onto the grass post-torture, I tilted my head to the sky-not for inspiration, but perhaps divine rescue. Instead, I got clouds. Big, moody ones, rolling in fast.

Creativity is unpredictable. Sometimes it comes easily, while sometimes it stubbornly refuses to flow. A musician can fumble...but nothing comes through.