I’m writing this shortly after midnight, Friday. I’ve had hours to get to my writing today—especially since I got off work just before three. And yet twice I’ve sat down in front of the computer and had nothing come out.
There was a time when this would have freaked me out. There was a time when I would have panicked, worrying that this meant I wasn’t a “real” writer (whatever that is). In truth, I do still worry about that sometimes. I could, I know, force some writing out tonight. And there are arguments for that being the correct course of action. But instead, I’ve decided to respect my brain’s desire to not be pushed around tonight. And I’m not even going to count it as a day off. I’ve been sitting here, I’ve been thinking about things—I just haven’t committed those things to the page. A day off seems like it should be a day when you don’t feel that weight hanging over you. And I’ve had it today. Still have it. I’m just choosing to put it down for a bit, to give my brain a rest. I think that’s okay.
Instead, I’m going to work on my French and maybe do some pleasure reading. And tomorrow, I’ll be ready to write again. That, I’m not worried about.
After nearly three weeks away from this blog (I can’t believe it’s been that long!), I’m back. I can hear my adoring public cheering; I just need to tilt my head a certain way, and the wind has to be right.
Yeah. Anyway. My absence was unplanned and really not all that fun. For the past few months I’ve been having pain in my shoulders (first one, then the other), and just over two weeks ago it got so bad that I couldn’t lift my right arm without massive amounts of pain. This resulted in me trying to do everything with my left arm (including vacuuming, which was a time consuming disaster), and let me just say now that if I ever lose full function of my right arm, I’m doomed. Doomed!
After a week of this, I went to my wonderful physical therapist father and got the diagnosis of tendonitis (yes, at 26) caused by too much time on the computer. I took half days at work on Friday and Monday and gave myself a no-computer-at-home rule, which I am only now lifting.
The worst part about this is how it’s affected my writing. When I enacted the rule I was at day 90 in my 100 Days of Writing challenge. I had missed 9 of my 10 days and was perfectly on schedule. Now I’ve missed something like 30 days and I still haven’t hit my 100. And so, as I said I would, I’m declaring myself a 100 Days of Writing failure. I think I might start again though, once I’m sure that this whole problem isn’t going to start anew.
But other than not meeting the goal I’d set for myself, I’m also now majorly behind on various projects. Until my hiatus I was on a role with this story, and now I feel sort of stalled. Playing with things in your head is, for me, not the same.
Anyway. I’m back. Yup.