Last night, it was between actually writing or writing this blog. So I took my pic, wrote, and went to bed.
Yesterday and today have been a blur. I am about to strangle everyone I love dear, and I feel awful about it.
Monday came with it a prognosis for my leg that I did not enjoy. The PT lady says I ripped my knee cap from my tissue back in college (anyone remember the Incident of 2008? Yeah). And so I am on a rigid PT until August, when I'll be told whether or not this year of writing will be done in recovery from some bullshit surgery.
I also feel awful about the fact that I keep trying to take steps to cross things off my Europe and Wedding lists (oh the size of those lists), and not much is actually getting done. Veils cost money, turns out. Did you know? I did not. And converters are not the same as adapters. I also had a close ... person ... demand me to put down my homework this morning and come rescue them from a broken car.
Which would be fine, if their definition of "rescue" wasn't "drive me to and from Burger King because I am hungry and don't know about the existence of Jimmy John's."
This is all setting a bad precedent. All I wanted to do was have a day off where I could sit at home and do my Europe homework and write on my book.
I'm working on finding that biological rhythm, too. I'm trying to write at different times during the day to see when works best. Right now, this is what I've realized about my "rhythms."
7:00 - What time is it? 7? Eff that noise.
8:00 - Should I get up? I should get up. Yes. Okay, here we go. I'm going to do something.
9:00 - Wow, it's only 9 and I've been so productive. Hell yea.
10:00 - Why am I hungry? Oh well, I can write some more.
11:00 - I am so goddam hungry. I need food.
12:00 - I have very much enjoyed that food. Now onto work --- wait ... what do you need from me? You need me to do something other than write? ... Awesome uh ... I guess I'll go get my keys.
1:00 - I am out doing a thing. I wonder what time I'll be home.
2:00 - I'm almost home.
3:00 - Okay now I'm almost home. Phew. Made it home. Well, now I can ... why am I tired? Dammit I need a nap. No no no don't take a nap.
4:00 - ... I am really trying hard not to nap. But my brain has mutinied. I'm just staring at the manuscript at this point, drooling. Okay, just a small nap.
6:00 - Wait, where the hell did 5:00 go?! NO! I NAPPED!
7:00 - Alex is home. We need food. He had a long day. Dammit.
8:00 - We need to go work out.
9:00 - Okay, maybe I can ask him to help me with something. I have plays I need to read for school. He likes plays. We can read this togeth --- no? You want to relax after a twelve-hour work day? ... I mean, yeah that makes sense ...
10:00 - Alex goes to bed. I sit and stare at the computer.
11:00 - I have been writing for an hour. Alex is asleep. I feel weird being up without him. But I only wrote this morning for a few hours. I need to get something in.
12:00 - "He walked down the hall. He looked at her. She stared at him. 'I love you,' he said. 'You need to get on that plane.' She stared at him, like a staring starer. Her eyes shimmered like glass. Her hair was a crimson red, because crimson is red ..." God dammit. It's too late at night and I'm writing crap!
1:00 - ... (Looks at the crap) Still Crap! DAMMIT!
2:00 - I'll try again tomorrow.
Okay, obviously I need to fix this structure. Obviously there are things I'm not doing right. I guess there's growing pains at the beginning. I just need to make sure that the writing I am getting out isn't awful crimson bullshit.
I need to just turn off my internet and my phone when I'm working. I think that will help a lot.
In the meantime, yes I did write both days. As you can see, it wasn't good stuff. But I'm still moving forward. I'm also digging into my readings for Ireland. And I've got my itinerary for the Eurotrip mostly written out.
Here's to tomorrow. PT and writing session with a spaghetti date at the end of it all.
Leave a Reply.
What is this?
Dawson is a writer. This is her blog. In it, you shall read about reading. And writing. And cheeseburgers. Sometimes there are tangents. Huzzah.