pressure
Yesterday I felt it building. I was fidgety, restless. My mind elsewhere. Finally, around suppertime I knew--
I HAD TO WRITE TODAY. Not "if." Not "after everything else." BIC asap. "The Grove" was calling.
Last night I cancelled my participation in a standing Thursday morning activity and this morning I got up, ate breakfast, and got to work.
I had 45 minutes before I had to leave to have my hair cut, and I typed up the one poem I've drafted for "The Grove" in the last three weeks, drafted the poem I poked at unsuccessfully earlier this week, and got going on the next one.
So today I
wrote
had my hair cut
had a massage
got the next piece of a quarterly copyediting assignment.
This is shaping up to be a pretty dang good day.
I HAD TO WRITE TODAY. Not "if." Not "after everything else." BIC asap. "The Grove" was calling.
Last night I cancelled my participation in a standing Thursday morning activity and this morning I got up, ate breakfast, and got to work.
I had 45 minutes before I had to leave to have my hair cut, and I typed up the one poem I've drafted for "The Grove" in the last three weeks, drafted the poem I poked at unsuccessfully earlier this week, and got going on the next one.
So today I
wrote
had my hair cut
had a massage
got the next piece of a quarterly copyediting assignment.
This is shaping up to be a pretty dang good day.