11/1/11 — These are the times that try writer’s souls. Roofers are just above my head — seriously, three feet, max — thwack-thwack-thwacking away with nail guns. I keep looking up, waiting for chips of plaster to fall, or a booted foot to come plunging through. Not the best of working conditions. Makes it kind of hard to concentrate.
Then again, at least I’ve got a roof over my head. Millions don’t. I’ve got enough food to eat. Millions don’t. I have a family, and friends, and lots of people that care about me. Millions don’t. And I get to write. Yes, GET to write, GET to wrestle with words and ideas and stories all day. I live a life of incredible privilege.
So go ahead roofers, make all the noise you want. The smile will stay on my face, no matter what the times may throw at this writer’s soul.