I really should not work at home.
Wait, no. I really do not work at home. It should be painfully obvious that I am focus challenged by the fact that I am blogging when I could be writing the article that is already infringing into my day off.
I am a deadline person - deadlines are cool. They are scary and always too soon, but way cool, because I meet them. When I don't have a firm one I'm screwed. I can't make one up for myself, because I know I've made it up for myself, and then it's just a game of Make A Deal with myself (one more cookie...five more minutes...I just want to read a NYT article, it's educational, see?...if I can just have this cup of coffee I will have so much energy and everything in the world will get done - in five minutes!).
It's a horrible game.
I was completely stonewalled at work, staring a blank screen until I realized I'd done nothing. I packed up and came home, thinking about the article the whole way so that when I sat down inspiration would gush out of my fingertips the way ink does one of those messy fountain pens.
I changed into PJs. Note to self- making self more comfortable does not help productivity.
I had a cookie. BK just sent them and they're yummy and I went to the gym today, leave me alone.
I made coffee. Like I need it at 2 am.
I opened my computer.
Doom.
E-mail, and leaky, and web sites to check and things to read and too many distractions.
And now I'm blogging.
Because if I blog, for five minutes, my mind will be clear and I can start to write. Well, I'll have a cookie and start to write. If I have a cookie and write three paragraphs I'll reward myself with some emailing. If I email four people I'll have been productive and then I will be on the clear rails to finishing my article. If I finish my article before 6am I can get the gym at 12 tomorrow. If I get to the gym at 12 tomorrow, I can be back by 2 and shower and get to the office to go over the pics with my editor so the article can run Sunday. Then I will have time to get ready for New Year's Eve.
When did this start to resemble Adaptation?
A cookie, and four emails.
Maybe five.
Then I can write.
Wait, no. I really do not work at home. It should be painfully obvious that I am focus challenged by the fact that I am blogging when I could be writing the article that is already infringing into my day off.
I am a deadline person - deadlines are cool. They are scary and always too soon, but way cool, because I meet them. When I don't have a firm one I'm screwed. I can't make one up for myself, because I know I've made it up for myself, and then it's just a game of Make A Deal with myself (one more cookie...five more minutes...I just want to read a NYT article, it's educational, see?...if I can just have this cup of coffee I will have so much energy and everything in the world will get done - in five minutes!).
It's a horrible game.
I was completely stonewalled at work, staring a blank screen until I realized I'd done nothing. I packed up and came home, thinking about the article the whole way so that when I sat down inspiration would gush out of my fingertips the way ink does one of those messy fountain pens.
I changed into PJs. Note to self- making self more comfortable does not help productivity.
I had a cookie. BK just sent them and they're yummy and I went to the gym today, leave me alone.
I made coffee. Like I need it at 2 am.
I opened my computer.
Doom.
E-mail, and leaky, and web sites to check and things to read and too many distractions.
And now I'm blogging.
Because if I blog, for five minutes, my mind will be clear and I can start to write. Well, I'll have a cookie and start to write. If I have a cookie and write three paragraphs I'll reward myself with some emailing. If I email four people I'll have been productive and then I will be on the clear rails to finishing my article. If I finish my article before 6am I can get the gym at 12 tomorrow. If I get to the gym at 12 tomorrow, I can be back by 2 and shower and get to the office to go over the pics with my editor so the article can run Sunday. Then I will have time to get ready for New Year's Eve.
When did this start to resemble Adaptation?
A cookie, and four emails.
Maybe five.
Then I can write.
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