What is it about Monday mornings which gets you going off in different directions than you originally intended? When I went to bed last night I had my day all arranged. If I worked the regular 9-5, I'd be at work right now and it would be structured time. But no, I'm an indie author and my time is my own. I should be writing. I am sort of. I'm blogging, but that doesn't get the next four books completed either.
I'm just having a hard time getting myself in gear today. It's like this EVERY Monday. I've got ten windows at the bottom of my screen minimized (my work and others), but my mind is drifting in different directions all at the same time. I started today with good intentions.
I spent the weekend stripping wall paper in my guest bedroom...too many interruptions and no it's not done yet. Cans of paint still sit in my hallway ready for me to start that project. Like I said the last post...when I can't write I do other things. Life has a way of putting OTHER THINGS in my path constantly. The problem is that I'm NOT blocked and want to write.
The fact that it's 55 degrees outside makes me want to till my garden. I burned it off two weeks ago to sterilize the soil before planting.
I've got floor tile to lay in my new storage/craft room that all the new construction built. The radiant heat mats have cured and the room is just waiting on the tiles to finish it...this isn't a small room, it's 12x10. Yes, I could have had the contractor do it, but there is something about doing the painting, making and hanging the curtains, and doing the floors myself that make the room mine. Like in my small chapel...I had to do the stained glass windows and door insets. Yes, I could have hired someone or bought them, but where is the pride of taking something from nothing and remolding it into something beautiful? It's like writing. You take a blank piece of paper and type words on it to create your novels and books. Every word, every sentence, every paragraph become a work of art. There is pride in workmanship there.
Yes, I can get quite scatter brained at times due to age and all these projects lining up. Part of the problem is I can't delegate them to my husband as I did a few years ago. Before I could say, you do this and I'll do that...now it's all on me. But simple tasks like taking out the trash is now a two-day project for him.
He does try, but his cancer is getting in the way of all his want-to-do's, and want-to-helps. I'm really trying not to take anything away from him. At best he's good for maybe fifteen minutes at a time with three hour breaks, but he does try. You just can't break a man's spirit by telling him...no, he can't do something so I find little stuff for him to do while I carry the main load. A man's ego is a delicate thing especially for the terminal male patient. I walk a thin line between wanting to do everything for him and letting him try.
Time to get busy. Today, I'll finish stripping the wallpaper, do the shopping for the next two weeks, run to the pharmacy (morphine time) and hopefully I won't have to go to two pharamacies to find it, and finish a critique that should have been done three weeks ago. That will be a pretty full rest of the day. Later after the supper dishes are done, I'll run a hot bath and edit some more of "The Mayan Serpent." Tomorrow should be more focused, I hope.
Keep writing and loving the Lord.
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