The Questionable Antics of My Writer Wife

Today around five o’clock I was squatting in my kitchen rummaging through my pots and pans, getting ready to make dinner. Then, out of nowhere, I heard our front door swing wide open so fast that the blinds in the house rattle from the sudden gust of air (our kitchen overlooks the front door and living room). My wife busted into the house, coat wide open, frantic, with a crazed look in her eyes. She looked to me and quickly said, “Pen! I need a pen!”

Not registering what just happened I asked her, “What?”. She replies, all while walking around aimlessly with frantic hands, “Pen. I have just thought of an amazing, completely revolutionary idea. It’s amazing that I’ve never come up with this before, and I haven’t seen anyone else write about it before! So I need a pen right now,” she started patting herself down looking for one. Next thing I knew, she was in the kitchen with me, spastically rummaging through drawers and flinging cabinets open, all the while saying “Pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen, pen!” She ran down our hallway going into our office. She yelled back, “Isn’t there a pen anywhere in this house!?”


“You’re a writer; don’t you always have a pen with you?”


“Usually, but if I had one now, we wouldn’t be having this problem! Seriously, why don’t we have anything to write with?” At this point, I’m looking down the hall watching her run from room to room while hearing what sounds like drawers flying open, among lots of other things being flung around our house.  “Dammit, why are there no pens in this house!? Oh!”  She ran out of our room with a paper in hand and the same look of crazed determination on her face. She sprinted to our dining table, slammed the paper down, yanked the left side of her coat open, reached into the inner pocket, and snatched out a pen. A Pilot G-2 07, her favorite pen. She pulled out the chair, surely scratching the floor. She grabbed the paper’s corner, and then leaned in really close as if ready to write; except, she didn’t. Instead, she sat back up and proceeded to stare out the window for about a minute and a half. “I lost the idea,” she said. I felt so exhausted after all that, that I just ordered a pizza.




Later that night, we were sitting on the couch relaxing. I was watching Archer on Hulu while she scrolled through WordPress on her tablet. Out of nowhere she said, “Found it.”

I had no idea what she was talking about so I asked, “Found what?”

“My idea, it’s right here on this blog. Oh, there it is again…” I went back to watching Archer.


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