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In the middle of the night.

At the desk, 8:31 a.m.

In the deepest, darkest part of the night, I receive wisdom.

Well, I don't really know how it works.

I don't know if in the still quiet loneliness of night, I have a chance to put the pieces together or if I receive wisdom from the ether or if I am literally visited by angels or...

Maybe it's this:

I worry that it's more like this:

The painting is supposed to be haunted.

But I get night terrors, so I know it's the latter. Truth be told, I don't know how it works.

I only know that if I have a problem rolling around in my brain, sometimes in the middle of the night I awaken with resolution and a plan of action.

My middle of the night decisions are usually the right thing to do. They could be as simple as: "Don't say that" or "Do this" or more complicated, such as last night's "Don't worry about cleaning up the mess the VA made, she's having a tough time."

The husband is used to seeing me do something different, possibly strange, and asking, "What's going on?"

"Night decision," I say.

He nods as if he understands, but I don't think either of us really understand.

I get a lot of writing inspiration that way. In fact, this whole writing adventure started when a woman sat down on my side of the bed and told me about her family. Her family story turned into the Alex the Fey thrillers. And sometimes, she comes back to make sure I'm still on track.

Does wisdom visit you in the middle of the night? Or is it just a "Claudia thing"?