My writing habit

So deep in concentration when I write these days just about anything at all, I have to have something nearest me like a schooolyard playmate. I am the baby with a rattle or a litle girl who toys with a curl, while thinking of things to say and when my fingers rest on the keyboard, my left hand starts fishing around industriously for something to hold and innocently destroy.

I have chewed on chunky marker pens with success and drunk strange beverages that were other than coffee. I have spun cds around like a top and once scratched a tablecloth cover like it had been displayed only to be damaged.

I knew I needed help when just the other day I swallowed someone else's medicine by mistake.