There are voices in my head. Several of them, in fact, most of whom no one but myself will ever meet. They go by names such as Emberlynne, William, Lisa, Persephone, Alex, Tom the Space Pirate, Jason, Kitty, and (of course) Lizzie, Brian, and Meenah.
At the moment, Brian and Lizzie are over at the microwave. Yes, of course there's a microwave in my mind. How else would they cook taquitos? Anyway, where were we? Oh, right. Meenah is tapping the thin wall that separates my imagination from the real world. The noise, while practically nonexistent on the reality side, echoes deafeningly thorough my imagination.
What? I think at her.
"Hiya, Polly," she says conversationally.
What do you want, Meenah?
"What are you doing?" she asks, her tone still suspiciously light.
What's it look like I'm doing?I demand, I'm sitting in the library.
"Just sitting," she asks innocently. "You're not working on anything important like, I don't know, physics homework or something?"
Why? I ask suspiciously.
"Well," she says, slightly more than a trace of venom leaking into her voice, "I was just thinking that you might want to get back to work writing, seeing as how it's been nearly two months since you finished the last chapter. TWO MONTHS, Polly. I thought that you loved us more than that."
I'm sorry, Meenah, I apologize, but I really don't have the time…
"Oh, don't give me that. You spend seventy minutes every morning in the library. There's the binder. Just grab a pen and start writing!"
Fine . I glare at the green binder, pull a pen out of my purse, flip to the most recent page, and start scribbling.
And suddenly the microwave, the room with the outdated furniture that I think of as my imagination, and the other characters are gone. In their place is Lizzie's mom's 1950's themed kitchen, with Brian, Lizzie, and Meenah sitting at the table, having the most fun argument that I've ever written.
Oh, yeah. I'm back.
Not Really Working …or Really Not Working.