So Sara Z and I met today for a work meeting at a little chez on First. But instead of working she drank coffee and I drank Dr. Pepper. Then we talked about the chocolate covered Oreos (in milk or dark!) at Hatch's on Eighth. And then, because we were tired from all that talking about Oreos, we decided to call it a day and take naps, so she drove to her house and I drove to mine where I had a nap.
But not until I went to Hatch's and ate Oreos first.
Showing posts with label another day of not writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label another day of not writing. Show all posts
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
How do you . . .
. . . keep writing sometimes?
We've had Big Stuff--some of it good, some of it not so good--going on here lately, and it's all had the effect of making me too tired, too distracted, too uninterested to write. I'm sure you've all been there.
The problem is that I'm trying to treat writing like it's my job. And if I had a traditional job, I couldn't allow myself the luxury of calling in sick day after day. And also after day. I'm pretty sure I would be losing that traditional job in a big old fat hurry if I acted the way I'm acting now.
Gotta get myself in hand. Gotta kick my own butt. Gotta STOP BEING ME.
(Any suggestions? I'm serious.)
We've had Big Stuff--some of it good, some of it not so good--going on here lately, and it's all had the effect of making me too tired, too distracted, too uninterested to write. I'm sure you've all been there.
The problem is that I'm trying to treat writing like it's my job. And if I had a traditional job, I couldn't allow myself the luxury of calling in sick day after day. And also after day. I'm pretty sure I would be losing that traditional job in a big old fat hurry if I acted the way I'm acting now.
Gotta get myself in hand. Gotta kick my own butt. Gotta STOP BEING ME.
(Any suggestions? I'm serious.)
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