Laughter is my drug of choice. If you’re asking me, I’d say that where you can find humor, you can also find a shred of joy. That makes sense, right?
I now stand over the anvil of writing sweating, eyes open, hammering away at the sword of words. I heat it in the coals of passion, tinker with the hammer of revision, and cool it in the waters of reflection. I still have a long while to go as I improve my work, but in this case, the journey is just as important as the goal. I am fervent in this business now that I can look beside me and see that writing was my ally all along, not some chore forced upon me by the evolution of man.
Before the original sin, stark naked and unaware, Adam and Eve were merely a part of their perfectly balanced ecosystem. They worked for nothing. They created nothing. They likely would have felt nothing except for the basic instincts that govern living creatures. An even temperament. A homeostasis. No real love, no fear, no desire. They were content with such an existence until the serpent slithered up Eve’s arm and told her to take a bite. To open her eyes. To know. To truly feel.
Pregnancy is hard. When you hear women joke about their “tapeworms,” usually it’s a lighthearted way of describing a rather cumbersome reality – feeling like all the energy, motivation, and nourishment is being literally zapped right out of your body. Now factor in raising an infant and working full time. Suddenly, things seem more grim.
