I love to write. I love to make music. In former days I fancied myself a songwriter – and a poor one at that. Poor in that I have always had to work to keep food on the table while I sighed and pined for the time I would be able to pursue my heart’s desire. But the Muse would not be put on the back burner. No. There were days I had to close the cover on the piano just to make it to work on time the next day. Otherwise that grand piece of walnut furniture sat there smiling at me with all 88 teeth, beckoning hypnotically, “come play me,” as I hurried out the door.

Conversely, I learned to write on Saturday morning before I did anything else. No bath, no toothpaste, no breakfast, just write until the sun came up and grew full in the sky. Otherwise, my time clock would get distracted and my brain and body would decide to keep working; cleaning house, taking out garbage, reading the news, catching up with friends.

And that is why, during the isolation of COVID-19 quarantine, I continue to rise while it is yet dark. I stumble to my laptop and type out whatever thoughts woke me. I write charming little notes to people while the rest of the world sleeps. I sip my tea on my schedule. I make the oatmeal when hunger growls. I continue to type until my thoughts thin and fade. And then I jump right in and keep my daily grooming schedule. I shave, I bathe, I do my nails, I comb my hair; I get dressed and ready to go out – confident my muse will interrupt me with a fabulous trope as soon as I have soap on one side of my face or as soon as I am soaking wet in the shower luxuriating in hot water streaming down my back -or when I am half-dressed in a room an open picture window’s length from my computer.

Once I am dressed (usually early afternoon), I go out – alone-into the hills and as much isolation as I can find. I carry my phone – for taking pictures and making verbal notes – because sometimes my interruption Muse finds me even there.

Everyone is approaching the quarantine of corona virus in his or her own way. One writer friend has cut out all the grooming nonsense, another stays in her pajamas all day. My advice is to do everything you can to let that interruption Muse out of her cage, because if you don’t let her interrupt you now, she is certainly going to interrupt you with regret when things get back to normal.

Note: This post was written in bathrobe and slippers with wet tangled hair whilst shoveling oatmeal cookies in and out of the oven.