|Flickr Credit: Lee Morley|
There have only been a few times in my life when I’ve been able to write every day, and that was usually in a typing-up-editing phase, and it was good. But for me, at least, I don’t really like writing every day—I like being a writer every day, but not writing.
Some days I focus on blogging, and I get through my to-read list (like I just did! *fist pump*), and then I spend time writing posts to schedule for the next week (as I am now). Blogging does take a few days for me, because even though I’m writing this post now, on Friday, I will be closing the document and not revising/scheduling until tomorrow. And, of course, there’s commenting to be done, and other housekeeping things.
Some days I focus on reading/watching TV. I am like, that one person who basically sees reading and watching TV as equivalents. That may not be what it’s like for you, but for me, reading and watching are basically the intake of details, and man, there are so many details to attend to. I recently asked my best friend if she has other friends who send her thousand-word rants about the latest book/movie watched, and she said no, but that’s why I’m her best friend.
And, of course, other days I actually write stuff. Which is hard, because there’s various stages of drafting and editing that all have to be coordinated and it’s like noooo but you must because that is what writing is.
The last one is kind of the important one—the one that I have to do if I want to be a writer, and it is hard. Over the last week, especially. I mean, for one thing, my grandmother died—there haven’t been a lot of tears around here (to clarify: it’s not that I don’t care; I feel like I already grieved for her death previously, and now death seems to have become the perfect resolution), but there’s a lot of things to be done when someone dies. And the basement flooded.
I don’t know if you have ever had to go get toilet paper when you have run out. It’s a pretty standard operation, even when one has stayed up until midnight and is creeping around by herself in the basement. But I assure you: everything changes when you step into a puddle of ice-cold water, and realize it is stretching all the way to the back wall.
My parents have never been so grateful that I’m a night owl, and we did stop a lot of the damage, but after heavy rain, it looks like we’re going to be renovating our entire basement to put in sump pumps and everything.
The good news is: hopefully we will prevent flooding.
The bad news is: I have to pack up all of my things and put them into storage, because the basement is where my room is. But, on the bright side, maybe we’ll repaint my room.
Also, I went to an awards ceremony at school yesterday and not that it was a bad thing but it was like, three hours long, and yes, I very much enjoyed some of the benefits of being a good student, but you can’t write at the same time as getting awarded stuff. You can’t.
So, the last couple weeks have been filled with a lot of not-exactly-writing. And I’m okay with that. I do not feel guilty or upset. What I do feel is that, now that things are settling down, it’s time to get started again. To all my Word documents: here I come.