I seem to be saying that a lot lately. Time just seems to be flying while I’m not looking. Today I’ve been scrambling from one chore to the next and I suddenly noticed I was really hungry. Good grief, I thought, I just finished breakfast. Then I noticed a clock and realized breakfast had been six hours ago.
Due to back and leg problems I have to do a little on my feet, sit a few minutes, then get up and do a little more. I thought, well, I’ll make my down time productive and try to set up my blog page on WordPress. Shouldn’t take long. Riiiiight. Oh, the to-do list is running long today.
I was going to try to finish the short story I am presently grinding my way through today, but it’s not been happening. I was going to have the short story collection this story is in finished and up on Kindle by Halloween, but it didn’t happen. Now I’m trying to get it done by Thanksgiving. I have people demanding to know when the next book is coming (don’t all authors wish they could say that…) and I just cringe.
I’m trying. I’m pretty sure I am. Maybe I’m taking too long doing other things. But you have to have a clean house, right? Uh, at least a neat one? Maybe one that doesn’t violate health laws? Maybe one that doesn’t make my roommate sister yell at me for the nth time? Self discipline has always been my greatest lack. It’s why I’m fat, why I’m diabetic, and why my bedroom is an awful mess. I spent over thirty years working sixty hours a week sitting at a computer and commuting two hours a day. I should be able to make myself do a few hours a day of work sitting at a computer at home in my pajamas. Maybe I should try getting dressed, drive around the block couple of times, and set the phone to ring at odd moments and turn on a recording of my sister yelling, “Aren’t you finished with that yet?” to play randomly. Maybe I should open the short story and write there instead of here.