All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,6
that.”
“Well, there are lots of ironies in life, right?”
“I’ve often wondered what you wrote, like maybe you were a Nicholas Sparks-type author writing under a secret pen name. That always made me laugh because romance seems like the antithesis of you.”
I chuckled. “Because I’ve been so warm and fuzzy?”
She shook her head. “Right.”
“Well, a lot of people think the information I put out is a crock of shit. But I’ve seen some amazing things happen when people are able to rewire their brains.” I sighed. “Admittedly, though, sometimes I don’t practice what I preach. I still get into the habit of not taking care of myself, dwelling on the past, or allowing anger and stress into my life on a daily basis, even though I know there are steps I can take to control those things.”
She nodded. “So, how does one do that exactly—change their brain?”
“There’s not a simple answer to that question. But the gist is a combination of physical and mental work. For example, what you put into your body is important…”
I paused at the unexpected and definitely inappropriate visual my words elicited.
“You mean like food?” she asked.
Yes. Like food—not my penis.
“Exactly. But not only that—how you spend your time and the people you spend your time with also affect your life more than you know. Removing yourself from stressful situations is key, as is finding a way to get out of your head, even if for just ten minutes a day through meditation. Stress is killer. It literally causes disease.” I moved some of the remaining food around on my plate, warning myself not to go off on a tangent. “Anyway…if you want to know more, I have dozens of articles on my website.”
She leaned in. “I’m intrigued. Can you show me where to find them?”
I picked up my phone and typed in the address before handing it to her.
Josie scrolled through. “Wow. You’ve written so many articles! How do you come up with the topics? And why aren’t there photos of you anywhere on here?”
“The company I work for prefers to keep it more about the information and not the source. I have no desire to become famous anyway.”
She looked up from the phone. “Such a shame and a marketing fail on their part, because you’re really handsome.” Her cheeks turned red.
She’s fucking adorable. I cleared my throat, unsure how to handle the compliment. “Thank you.”
Our eyes locked for a moment before Josie handed me back the phone.
“So, what’s next? What topic are you working on now?”
I sighed. “Actually, I’ve been stuck lately. I’m on a deadline, and I’m struggling with where to take my latest article. Not sure what to focus on.”
She moved her chair back and stood up. “Well, don’t let me keep you from working. Your laptop has to be fully charged by now.”
Oddly, I didn’t exactly want to get up. I’d enjoyed talking to her, even if I’d opened up a bit too much.
“Yeah…” I sighed. “At this rate, I’ll be up all night writing.”
“What if you lose your charge again?”
“I guess I’ll just be screwed.”
She bit her lip. “Why don’t you work here for a while? Just keep it plugged in, and then when you’re ready to head back to your place, you’ll still have all the juice left.”
Her offer was more than gracious, considering what a dick I’d been to her. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m positive.”
“Thank you. I think I’ll take you up on that.”
After we cleaned up our plates, I settled into a spot in Josie’s couch next to the power strip.
Soon after, I could hear her shower running upstairs, and my mind went wild imagining what she looked like naked under that water.
After a few minutes of enjoying that mental imagery, something miraculous happened as I stared at the empty page on my computer. I started to type. Deep down, I knew why my writer’s block had gone away. This place, as much as I’d knocked Josie in the past, was a warm and welcoming environment that relaxed me. And because I was able to calm my mind, ideas started to move freely within it. The words flowed as I began to write about my experience tonight. The title of the piece was: Change Your Environment, Change Your Productivity.
I got more than a thousand words down in a matter of twenty minutes.
When I paused, I took in a deep whiff of the scented candles mixed with the lingering smell of cookies in the air. Was it really this