Day Job v. Writing

Day job v. writing. I was working yesterday, indexing documents (my current project) and thinking more of my writing than normal when I went into the kitchen to get some tea. “We go through cups like there’s no tomorrow,” said my neighbor in the next cubicle who takes care of the kitchen (it's part of her personality to ensure everything in the office is tidy). I murmured something, I don’t even know what as I jolted back into reality. Here she was thinking about styrofoam cup supplies and I was in a tall forest of golden sunlight talkng with the Sidhe, thinking of crafting an urban fantasy.

Since she’s worked with me for years, she knows my mind goes off and twists a bit…but this dichotomy was deeper yesterday. We would have been totally baffled by each other.

Then there's the guy who asked, when he learned I was a writer, if as I was doing normal things, I wrote in my head like "Robin turns down the short hallway, seeing her reflection in the glass door...." I said no. Maybe I think of dialogue, but it isn't about me.

If possible, may you be lost in musings today, and if not, well, you can always work on the kitchen...
Robin