Veni, vidi, vici

Tap, tap, tap.  That’s my pencil hitting my notebook.  I wonder in Julius Caesar ever had a moment such as this?  Did he ever look out over the Tiber and think, “Now what?”

I was greedy tourist.  I sopped up as much “experience” in Italy and Germay as I could possibly retain.  It was wonderful.  I spent the trip home with a silly grin pasted to my face.  Some say it was exhaustion but I know better.  I was in a daze reminiscent of that bittersweet parting of lovers when you know that you’re in love.  Sigh.

Alas, two weeks and six days later I’m missing every magnificent little moment of my trip.  I miss the incessant sirens in Rome and the dogs peeing on everything in Venice.  I was happy to continue to roll around in the afterglow of that happy memory of sailing down the Rhine until yesterday when my husband asked me if I’d had a chance to employ some of my newly acquired experience to my writing.

Buzz kill.

Muse:  Put the lead end of that pencil to paper and get going.
Me:  Buzz kill.

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