Sunday, December 9, 2012

Why the Hell am I NOT Writing?

I'm not writing.

I know you know that.

I know that you know that I know that you know that. Yet I keep repeating it all over the 'Net. Ad nauseam. Yup, you're probably gagging at this point. I know I'm gagging.

Yet I'm not writing.

It's hard to write and gag at the same time. If you don't believe me, go try it for yourself. You'll see. Besides, at least then you'll be off doing something instead of reading about me not doing it.

Let me tell you what else it's hard to do AND write at the same time:

1. Eat. Peanut butter mushed into a laptop does it no good. And I can't type one-handed, either. When, oh when, will somebody invent an automatic feeder?

2. Sweep, mop, clean the shower, do laundry, or any other type of housework. Not physically possible.

3. Write Christmas cards. Sure, I have a pen in hand, but I can only handle one form of writing at a time, and it's no good to get ONE Christmas card done a day. I need LOTS of Christmas cards done. And fast. Now would be good.

4. Drive. Now we're moving into dangerous territory--like smash-the-laptop-into-my-face-when-I-slam-the-car-into-a-tree territory. Please DON'T go out and try this one. I promise, even without attempting it myself, that it won't end well.

5. Grade papers. I don't have much longer on this one, since grades are due Thursday, but it still eats up writing time.

6. Help kids with homework. And, no, I don't mean DO the kids' homework. I'm pretty strict about that. But I'm continually amazed at the perception of my kids. As soon as they think my mind has wandered somewhere else, they suddenly need my help. How did they get that intuitive?

7. Attend stuff--whether a play, a party, a meeting, or anything else where human interaction is expected. Hosting a party is even worse! Why couldn't I just make myself a recluse this time of year? I could be Emily Dickinson. Though I wouldn't wear my hair like that. Talk about homely!

I could add more, but the truth is that EVERYTHING I'm doing right now--or needing to do--simply doesn't allow me to write. The problem isn't all the stuff. It's that I'm allowing it to take the place of writing. I'm placing writing at the bottom of my list, under "clean out the fridge" and "donate clothing to Salvation Army."

Until I make writing a priority, it won't happen.

Hopefully I'll move it up soon. I've got some deadlines coming up, and I'd love to think that once they are over, I'll get to writing, but I know better. I'll have two classes to prep for January, books to read, housework to do (forever!), and I probably will still put writing off.

It's all my fault, and I know it. And if you're not writing--or doing the things you say you love doing but never do--then you're at fault, too.

I just wish KNOWING this stuff made me stop doing it... and start writing again. Maybe for Christmas I'll get some free time. And I'll use it more wisely. I'll let you know.

What do you want in your stocking this year?

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