After two full months of chaos and two full weeks of multiple daily appointments (none of which were of the fun variety), I had a day to myself.
I crawled out of bed, okay, I sorta fell out of bed at 8 a.m. and after my usual coffee-time rounds through email and Facebook, I settled in for a “Writer’s Day.” It went something like this:
Stare at computer screen and wonder why all my best ideas never happen when I’m staring at a computer screen.
Pet the dogs.
Stare at the computer screen some more, decide to read what I wrote two days ago.
Let the dogs outside.
Type the first sentence of a new scene…seven times. Decide to take the dogs for a walk.
Have brilliant idea while out walking, forget idea by the time we get home.
Fill dogs’ water bowl.
Remember brilliant idea and start typing.
Change mind, decide idea sucks.
Clip doggy toenails.
Move laptop outside and sit on porch.
Stare at screen some more.
Get mad at self and decide to write different scene instead.
Fingers start moving.
Two hours later, decide first idea was brilliant after all and start typing that scene again.
Sit and stare at a Dragonfly on porch railing, try to imagine what it would be like to ride one.
Surf the internet, pretend I don’t feel guilty about it.
Take the dogs for another walk.
Remember important detail from previously written scenes that renders new scene obsolete. Delete it.
Watch dog stalk an ant. Giggle when she growls.
Type some more, save work as acceptable.
Consider going to the grocery store, decide to eat some canned peas instead.
Pour peas into pan, turn on the burner, sit down to read the day’s writing and make minor changes.
Pour new can of peas into pan, turn on burner, go back to reading the day’s work.
Wonder if the fact I was so absorbed in my own story that I burned two cans of peas means the story is good…or does it just mean I’m an airhead?
Share cold sandwich with dogs.