Hey, Writing Mood. Where Are You, You Elusive Jerk?

Dear Writing Mood,

Where have you gone today? Did I do something wrong?

I woke up as I usually do — with a cat on my chest, a hunger in my stomach, and a Hamilton lyric on my mind.

I ate breakfast as I usually do (greek yogurt and banana slices enjoyed with a youtube video). I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and popped in my contacts. I looked up the weather. Frowned at the weather. Yawned. Checked facebook. Yawned. Checked instagram. Yawned. Checked CNN.com. Screamed internally for five minutes, praying to god and Anderson Cooper to make it stop.

I had a miscommunication with my Amazon Echo. (“Alexa, play songs by NYSNC.” “I can’t find songs by En Suite.” “NO. Alexa, play songs by NSYNC.” “I can’t find songs by And Stick.” “Alexa, please play songs please by the sensational 90s boy band NSYNC. Please.” “Playing songs by Ed Sheeran.”)

I did all my typical morning things.

Usually, my dearest darlingest ’ol friend Writing Mood, you’d pay me a visit by now. You’d rush up to me with a perplexing mix of madcap enthusiasm, delusions of grandeur/future Pulitzer winnings, and screeching, terrified doubt. You’d distract me from listening to an NPR podcast, looking up bulk grocery deals on Amazon, tossing an overprice toy at my cat for her to barely chase once then ignore, or completing some other vital task.

But today, you’re MIA. I’ve sat down to utilize you — with my laptop, then my notepad, then my phone — but you’re gone. Out of reach. Vanished. Amelia Earhart-ed.

Did I do something wrong? Something to upset you? I swear I haven’t been cheating on you with Pinterest DIY Crafting Mood; we’re just friends! Yes, she’s made me some beautiful artwork and scrumptious dinners, but we don’t share the same deep, life-affirming connection as you and me. She doesn’t get me like you do; she’s not The One.

Am I not worthy of you anymore? Have you gone off to romance younger writers? Hipper writers? Charming wide-eyed writers who practice adjective restraint and don’t overuse the em dash? Is it my habit of ending sentences in prepositions to which you cannot put up? Do you talk dirty to these budding wordsmiths? Poetically? Lyrical? Listicle-ly?!

I can be all those things too! (Come back and I can publish 20 Incredible Reasons Why I Desire to Be in the Writing Mood. Or 30! Or 50!)

Please. Just tell me what to do. How can we reconnect? I can’t write without you. I’m lost! I’m hopeless! I’m trapped! I’m going to spend the day rewatching and crying over the new Queer Eye instead! (Don’t test me; I’ll do it.) I’m —

….wait, wait, what’s that? Are… are you trying to tell me something, my sweet precious Writing Mood?

…Oh, pfffft this letter?!? Huh. I guess I did just write something. Would you look at that?

Thank you, you mischievous little trickster. I love you.