It’s about being a freelance writer, and spending Saturday night talking to a client about what they need done.
And it doesn’t make me sad (so the ‘blues’ part is there because I like how it sounds). It doesn’t annoy me.
It reminds me of writing scripts for an educational TV show for preschoolers almost 15 years ago (has it been THAT long? Now I feel old), 5 episodes in 5 days. There I was, with high temperature, writing until 2 A.M. Or longer. Was it longer? Doesn’t matter. It was certainly late, I was sick, I was tired… And giddy. And almost chuckling to myself. Because it was fun. Because I was enjoying myself.
And possibly because of the fever.
But mostly because I was writing, and because I was loving it. Silently growling because I was doing it at the last moment (that part wasn’t up to me!), but still enjoying it.
I was writing, and then I’d get to see a bunch of kids and two adults say my words, and I’d get paid.
I was writing, and that’s all that mattered (not that much can matter at 2 A.M. while you have a fever and work; it gives you a special kind of focus).
It was fun.
It still is, even though I don’t stay up until 2 A.M. anymore.
I get some sleep, and then I write.
Maybe I’m smarter now.
Or just older, and adapting.