A procrastinator’s work is never done.
Most writers, professional or amateur will always have one item close by – a notepad. Full of ideas, strings of dialogue, elements of projects past and current, newspaper or magazine clippings, research notes; you get the idea. This notepad is a pretty important piece of kit, and understandably the sort of person that carries said item would not like to see damaged or lost. I am one such person. This morning, as I arrived at the office, sat down at my desk and reached into my wet bag to get the bottle of water I had in there, did you notice how I said wet bag? The damned bottle had fallen on its side and leaked all over my stuff, including my notepad which got soaked through from the bottom to about halfway up. (I would post my reaction, but you might flag this blog as offensive).
I had to scamper into the men’s bathroom and use the hand dryers in the men’s to start drying it out, then left it by my computer and hoped I’d be able to read the contents once the paper had dried out. (Oddly nobody seemed to notice the guy walking rather rapidly across the office swearing to himself, whilst holding a small, red, dripping wet notepad out before him). Thankfully, as I leaf through the still damp pages the vast majority is legible. Only a small collection lose pages at the back have been turned into pieces of abstract art, and most of that was recent research I can duplicate; so no real harm done in the end. I know the majority of people that read this blog dabble in the writing lark, and I thought you might relate the moments of apprehension and frustration that preceded the realisation that the notepad pulled through it’s ordeal, the little fighter.
Anyway - Hello readers. I hadn’t planned on taking up quite so much of this entry with that miniature disaster. I hope your weekend was more constructive than mine.
I had set myself a few goals to achieve this weekend. To finish writing a short story I started last week. To take a look at Brain Scratch, I rewrote it one evening (yet to re-upload) and it now has the makings of a pretty weird and quirky mini series. To do a little housekeeping on my personal accounts, and my house for that matter (Okay, I live in an apartment, but house fit the line better). I would then reward myself with a nice steak and cider dinner and allow myself to finish reading The Drawing of the Three; book II of the Dark Tower Series, something I currently crave as much as caffeine.
But alas, I hit a snag. My motivation was hampered by procrastination. When I say hampered, I mean shut in a box, placed in a cannon and fired into the sky before being shot with a rocket and the pieces fed to motivation eating piranhas who themselves were eaten by motivation eating piranha eating sharks. You get my point, I’m sure.
Where did it all go wrong? The same place it always does. I took the reward before doing the work. I woke up uncustomary late on Saturday and decided a quick read over breakfast would do no harm. I then decided a quick session on the XBOX would help centre my creative mojo, despite it failing to do so on every previous occasion. But if you have read some of my earlier posts you will know that I am trying to be optimistic, tentatively optimistic that is. But upon realising that this time would not differ from any that preceded it I returned to the book, and then to the Internet and watching vlogs on youtube; then once more to the book.
I was trapped within a self fuelling circle of procrastination until around mid-afternoon when I believed the injury that had been keeping me from training for the last few weeks had recovered enough for me to run again. It hadn’t. After six miles my left ankle and calf were threatening to detach from the rest of me, kill me then find a more caring host. Thankfully the six-mile mark was back at the corner of my street, so I had only a few metres to hobble before collapsing in a pitiful pile on my living room floor. Still, lets look at the positives. The fact that it held for six miles is good, but I have very likely added another week or two to my recovery. Oh joy.
I fared no better Sunday, I finished the book and when I got home today I began reading the third volume; The Wastelands, as I waited for my dinner to cook. But Heroes returns to the BBC tonight, and if there is one thing I want to know now more than the fate of Roland in the Dark Tower books, it is what happens when the Heroes become Fugitives. I am such a geek.
Until next time
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