The way habits come back to us...
It's really funny for me to see myself falling right back into the habits I had while writing my MFA thesis -- it's sort of like visiting with a past self. I'm also vacillating between feeling excited in a very 14-year-old girl about it all and feeling very adult because I have things like a lawyer and I'm getting an accountant.
For instance:
Yesterday for an early-morning break from "writing" (meaning: setting up a poker class I'm teaching, reading other poker blogs...) I mopped my floor. It was too dirty to lie on, you see. Naturally! Of course, you say. As my housemates from my junior of college can verify, I sometimes like to lie on the floor to calm down and think. And I like to clean before I write. I don't know why. Put it to a need to have an eccentric writer thing if you want. My ex used to come home sometimes and find me scrubbing the bathroom and say, "How's the writing going?"
Other ways I convince myself I'm "working": While eating lunch, I watched the only TV of the day, 30 minutes of Rounders with my table of contents and a pen in case I had any brilliant ideas.
And today, besides this really, really fascinating and essential blog post, I cooked enough pasta and vegetables to last me for 4 meals while I made the phone calls of the day. Next? I spent an hour fiddling around with photoshop, reworking pictures I took earlier (in the procrastination week) of playing cards.
This is relevant how? Because I truly needed to put that Queen of Hearts graphic in the side bar? I'm ridiculous. But at the same time, now I've gotten to the point where I'm ready to start writing for real. No joke.
For instance:
Yesterday for an early-morning break from "writing" (meaning: setting up a poker class I'm teaching, reading other poker blogs...) I mopped my floor. It was too dirty to lie on, you see. Naturally! Of course, you say. As my housemates from my junior of college can verify, I sometimes like to lie on the floor to calm down and think. And I like to clean before I write. I don't know why. Put it to a need to have an eccentric writer thing if you want. My ex used to come home sometimes and find me scrubbing the bathroom and say, "How's the writing going?"
Other ways I convince myself I'm "working": While eating lunch, I watched the only TV of the day, 30 minutes of Rounders with my table of contents and a pen in case I had any brilliant ideas.
And today, besides this really, really fascinating and essential blog post, I cooked enough pasta and vegetables to last me for 4 meals while I made the phone calls of the day. Next? I spent an hour fiddling around with photoshop, reworking pictures I took earlier (in the procrastination week) of playing cards.
This is relevant how? Because I truly needed to put that Queen of Hearts graphic in the side bar? I'm ridiculous. But at the same time, now I've gotten to the point where I'm ready to start writing for real. No joke.
posted by Toby Leah Bochan at 1:49 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home