The plot danced in front of her eyes; a blank word page stared back. She just needed to put the first scratch, then the words would flow. But first, let’s get the son ready for school. I’ll come to you later, she resolved.
Why does brushing the teeth look like a tour through the park? Not just any park, the Jurassic Park. Oh, the house needs more vegetables, and some cornflakes, and the milk is not enough. The overflowing sink growled at her. It is already 8, why isn’t the maid in yet?
The app showed her office commute is just 15 minutes away. Tried to reschedule the ride. No other timings were available on the same route. Should I take an Uber? She toyed with the idea for a few seconds. But, in the tough competition between taking a break for breakfast and an Uber surge price food was a sore loser. The cereal box tucked back, she braced herself for a sprint.
A few minutes later – a half-baked mother-son was dashing down the street. The dust and dirt of the house were left behind to take care of themselves. The student could slip through the almost closing gates and the generous driver slowed down noticing a dishevelled woman chasing it. The journey to the office was sorted.
The plan was to go back to the blank page during lunch hours. Meeting stacked over meetings toppled the internal resolutions in no time. Lunch itself became a luxury.
After a hundred cups of coffee the rally of meetings stopped for the day. It was time to brave the swarms of traffic, eternal pauses, and bumpy rides. The blank page on the laptop screamed for some attention. Once I reach home, she promised.
Scattered toys, an overstimulated toddler, and many colorful strokes on the wall welcomed the tired soul. The mother hugged the tiny tot and tossed away the laptop. The blank page screamed in despair.
The clash of dinner ensued soon, quickly followed by the great battle of getting ready for bed. The battles were won, and weariness started overcoming the warrior. And it was time to call it a day. The blank page kept weeping in the corner.
-x-
This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023
Loved reading about the busy mom’s musings.. I loved the way you described your and Sampuro’s rush of the morning.. Absolutely loved the word half-baked mother-son . I think many of the stories keep waiting on the blank word doc for eternity as we prioritize our life and somehow forget to write it later.
So relatable! Even without the kid, the mornings aren’t much different. The blank page indeed keeps waiting for its turn!
The blank page kept weeping in the corner – these words hit me hard.