I have writer's block and not because I have nothing to say. Quite the opposite is true. I have so many thoughts and ideas swirling through my brain that I don't know where to begin. Nothing seems important, or interesting, or funny, or unique when there are elderly parents that need help and the solutions are not ideal...
I could write about
- driving, or more specifically, navigating in Malaysia while making at least six wrong turns trying to drive Eric to Kuala Lumpur for a trip to the States, and more than double that number trying to exit.
- returning home to Lumut after a grueling five hour (125 mile drive - 25 mph average pace) to find my internet down.
- thrice daily trips to Starbucks to take advantage of WiFi for making calls and writing emails to family in the States.
- the kindness, helpfulness, and smile by the nice worker at the internet provider.
- the cows tied to trees in front of the local mosques yesterday followed by the crowds of men and boys gleefully slaughtering those cows for the Eid holiday.
- the man riding to the mosque for first prayer call this morning on his motorcycle, passing me on my bicycle, throwing his plastic baggie of trash onto the shoulder and then looking around to see if I noticed.
Yes, I could write about all of these things in detail, but nothing seems really important as I sort through trying to be caring, responsible, supportive wife helping a spouse learn about caring for elderly parents.
I could write about
- driving, or more specifically, navigating in Malaysia while making at least six wrong turns trying to drive Eric to Kuala Lumpur for a trip to the States, and more than double that number trying to exit.
- returning home to Lumut after a grueling five hour (125 mile drive - 25 mph average pace) to find my internet down.
- thrice daily trips to Starbucks to take advantage of WiFi for making calls and writing emails to family in the States.
- the kindness, helpfulness, and smile by the nice worker at the internet provider.
- the cows tied to trees in front of the local mosques yesterday followed by the crowds of men and boys gleefully slaughtering those cows for the Eid holiday.
- the man riding to the mosque for first prayer call this morning on his motorcycle, passing me on my bicycle, throwing his plastic baggie of trash onto the shoulder and then looking around to see if I noticed.
Yes, I could write about all of these things in detail, but nothing seems really important as I sort through trying to be caring, responsible, supportive wife helping a spouse learn about caring for elderly parents.
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