Sitting up, I looked around.
Rain and fog had subdued the sunshine outside. My butt was numb and my eyes were tired.
I’d just finished editing the sixth chapter today. Lifting my coffee cup, I discovered nothing but dried residue inside.
What the hell?
I hadn’t been working that long, guessing it was two hours, but it was focused and intense. I loved what I’d written. I remembered being in such a zone when I wrote those chapters. It was just last June, June 2018. I’d hesitated to begin them, working around them for a few days before telling myself, just write them. Just do it.
So I did, and they worked out well.
I want to go on, but I’ve hit some limits. Other things require my attention and presence, and why be greedy? It’s been an excellent day of editing like crazy.
There’ll be more tomorrow.
Bah. I wish I had that tenacity. I’ve got too many ideas and not enough resolve to select one without lamenting the others that might just fly away if I were to move in the first place.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, but aren’t the ideas seductive, tempting you to go astray and chase a new direction? From your posts and comments, I imagine you have some amazing ideas to explore. Go, explore, please.
LikeLike
I explore a bit too much, spelunking is such wet and mucky territory. It can get me a bit in trouble with whatever weeds get caught in my flippers whenever I resurface. Sticking my bottle nose where it doesn’t belong. Or… totally belongs… HAHAHA.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nothing like the satisfaction of intense writing and coming away pleased from it. Those are the good days!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are so right. Even when the world is falling apart, friends are dying, pets are lost, and the future is bleak, a day of intense writing can leave me thinking, what a wonderful life. Thanks for writing reading and commenting. Cheers
LikeLiked by 1 person