I had every intention of catching up on writing over the weekend. It was going to be the perfect time to do it. But then Saturday came and the weather was gorgeous, so we spent the day outside; I planned to do my writing in the evening instead. Then evening hit, and so did the awful cold symptoms. On Saturday, I logged a grand total of 144 words.
The symptoms stayed bad through Sunday, which I had planned to allow myself to take easy, since the 9th is usually our monthly date night. I tried to get work done anyway, but Sunday offered 265 words. Guess I should have written more on Saturday.
I have to accept that as one of my shortcomings, both as a writer and as a person. If something isn’t captivating me, I’m quick to look in other directions. Stuffy scene that I can’t quite figure out? Go enjoy the sunshine instead. It’s a form of procrastination. I just have to get better about curbing it whenever that impulse arises. If I can get into the habit of having my writing sprints during the day, this should get better.
One of the benefits that was supposed to come with replacing my laptop was that I’d keep mobility; I’d be able to go outside with the little one, soak up the sunshine, and get some work done. But the thing is so shiny, new, and not fully paid for yet that I’m afraid of taking it outdoors, especially since it’s spring; we have so many sudden rainstorms. It would only take one to leave me owing a couple hundred bucks on a computer that doesn’t work. I guess I’ll work up the courage eventually–I never worried about taking the G4 outside–but right now the Air is so new I’m not comfortable taking that leap just yet. Maybe we’ll stick to notebooks for outside.
Tonight I lost a good chunk of my work time to tearing out my beautiful rose garden. I planted all knockout roses because they were disease-resistant, hoping that would keep them beautiful. But my neighbor’s roses went first and mine followed soon after; disease-resistant doesn’t mean immune. They started showing signs of rosette disease in the new growth coming out last week. I’m pretty heartbroken about losing my wonderful roses, but my husband and I discussed them while he dug out the roots and if nothing else, at least we both got a little story inspiration from observing the way the disease twisted and shriveled the leaves. Maybe my roses will give life to a new story after this one is done.
For now, I’ve revised the Pacemaker plan to reflect a goal of 8,000 words instead of 10,000. Tonight I’ll be revising my outline with most of my work time, then writing just a little bit. My deadline for completion is on Saturday, but at least it’s ending on a Saturday–I may end up crunching this weekend to finish up.