Watching grass growing

I need to write. I want to write. I want to write about ordinary things because they are significant.

I find it hard to write about ordinary things. My life keeps throwing non-ordinary (as opposed to extraordinary) things at me. My writing keeps crescendoing into a cross between a symphony orchestra and a screeching cat. Is it music or is it a wail? a wailing whale?

I wish I could go back to aspiring to write as good as, and in a style akin to, Cedar Sanderson, who I once noted could write about watching grass grow, and make the writing interesting, captivating and compelling.

I am now in Liberty Hospital. It was determined I could get better care for my leg here than at North Kansas City Hospital. I tried to get on the wifi, but the one that seemed the obvious didn’t work. When I checked at the nurses’ station, I found out the one I should use was over 20 wifi options down and 4 screens on the list of wifi options that I had to scroll through to choose it. Counterintuitive.

Yet here it is just after 12:30 p.m., and room service called me to see if I wanted to order lunch. Unique and totally different than my experience at any other hospital.

What other things will I find unique here? I am paused for many pleasant (I hope) surprises.