I’m still struggling to get into a routine. How do proper writers do this?
Last week my available working hours were reduced due to recovery time required by my surgery. However, I did send out a short story submission, and submitted three poems to another literary magazine.
Friday I felt most productive. Partially inspired by a dream,1 I woke up early and wrote. I managed 1100 words before I even thought of coffee. I’m immensely and unreasonably proud of this.
I wrote a little more during coffee (another 400 words), and I’m continuing to work on it and shape it into something proper. So far, I like it.
For the pseudo long weekend myself, my husband and another friend made the trek up north to my parents’ cabin, Wild Wood, in the North Kawarthas Friday night. I thought I’d get more done there, but mostly we read, drank, and generally hung out in the heat. Bit of a swim in the lake.
I had a good time, and came away from it with plenty of mosquito bites, but I didn’t write a word while I was there.
Today’s my birthday. Celebrations won’t be as frivolous as last year, we’re on a smaller budget now, but it’s been a good day. I haven’t yet decided where we’ll be going for dinner, but I’m guessing it will be somewhere Italian.2
I’m proud that I’ve committed myself to doing something that I love, but I don’t feel like I’m getting enough done. I’m still learning what it means to be self-employed, still working on what it means to be a grownup, and making it up as I go along.