No Excuses.

I've fallen out of a lot of good habits. By a lot, I mean nearly every damned one of them.

Writing everyday has fallen by the wayside.

The weekly blog took a bit hit.

Online community participation? Ha!

My attempts at being tidy and organized have imploded and created a rather amazing chaos across the house (think interior design by a category 3 hurricane).

Anything remotely artistic has gathered so much dust that it's not funny.

I can't even remember where my workout clothes have managed to hide, let alone what they look like anymore.

And has anyone seen the dog? We had four, right? Why am I only finding three? (Okay, that last bit about the dogs isn't true, but still.)

It's so easy to let things slip away from you. Especially when it concerns the daily grind of a writing project. Even to the most devoted of writers, when faced with the necessities of daily living, getting that extra hour, or even that extra hundred words, can be a monumental difficulty.

Seeing everything listed helps map out what I need to work on. Posting it for you all to see gives me extra incentive to work harder (NaNo mindset much?).

I have plenty of excuses for my bad habits, my goal is to have none.

:D

Bootstrap up, Princess.

I sat at my computer for nearly half an hour, trying to get something written for the posting this week. The blank space and the blinking cursor just staring at me, mocking me with every second that ticked by. Each flash of the cursor reminded me you're stuck, you're stuck, you're stuck. Stupid insensitive cursor.

Excuses started running through my head: the insomnia has been hounding me again, the winter weather has me kind of blue, my beloved dog isn't doing so well. How can I create (cue dramatic flourish, add a beret or a white scarf) when all of this is going on around me, sapping my artistic spirit, silencing my muse? How can I be expected to work when I don't feel like working?

And then the ol' logic center kicked in: because if I expect to be treated like a professional one day, I have to start acting like one now. Editors aren't going to expect any less than any other employer just because my job entails writing a book. Deadlines aren't going to apply to everyone else but me. If I'm going to be taken seriously, I'm going to need to stop whining.

Sigh. It's too bad, though, because I look pretty snazzy in a beret. :)