Do you ever stare out the window and think of nothing?

My mother always got on my case about 'daydreaming' when I was younger. She'd catch me looking out the window when I should be doing homework or staring into space when she was telling me something important. The teachers noticed it in school, too. They'd send home notes on my report card saying that I daydreamed too much.

Yup, I was daydreaming all right. But I wasn't thinking of nothing.

Normally, when I stare out the window now, people don't bug me about it. They know I'm a writer. Hell, most of my friends are writers themselves, so they all know that when I look off into space, I'm working. That's what I call it. Working.

But I'm really daydreaming.

I'm thinking about what kind of tree I'm staring at or about a boy I knew in high school and where he might be now or about being at the beach or about that fish chowder I can warm up for lunch. And after all those bothersome little thoughts, the kind the Polynesians call fidi-coco, then I come around to thinking about the scene I'm working on or the character who's bugging the crap out of me because they won't make a decision or just don't fit into the story or aren't likable.

I never stare out the window and think about nothing, but is it daydreaming? I kinda like that word. It fits my work.

Yup, daydreaming is my job.

Peace,
Dawn