Mood: Annoyed with myself + exhausted + out-of-sorts

Currently Listening to: 2 O’Clock in the A.M. by Swati

Reality is that I’m not going to be typing THE END on June 21st. Honestly, I’ve gotten nothing done in the last couple of weeks. Little spurts here and there, but not enough to keep me from getting woefully behind. I had hoped/planned to use this week and next week to catch up, or at least get as close as possible, but this week has been a complete wash. I admit, the only one to blame is me. I could have found the time to write, but I didn’t. However, finding that time has been complicated by the fact that my mother had surgery to repair a torn rotator cuff earlier this week and I’m playing nursemaid. And as a result I’m exhausted. My sleep schedule is totally fucked up since she wakes me for help in the middle of the night and I’m running around all day. I don’t do well when I haven’t had at least 7-straight, uninterrupted hours of sleep. The fact that I’m not getting that means that I’m sleeping later to get the rest of the sleep I need and if that isn’t enough, I’ve been napping in the afternoon between doing things for her and running errands and trying to do some work. All this creates a vicious cycle because come 11/12 at night, I’m wide awake and can’t fall asleep. So when I get my 6 AM wake call to give her her pain pills or rearrange her pillows, I’ve only had 3-4 hours of sleep. Admittedly, right now, I could be writing instead of doing this, but my head is just scattered and I can’t focus.

Excuses, excuses. I know. Horrible. I feel horrible about it. There should be no excuse. If I’m ever going to finish this fucking thing, I have to write. And I want to finish it. I want to finish this first draft because I want to start on the 2nd draft and whatever comes after that. I want to be moving towards the end instead of whatever I’m currently doing because it’s not getting me anywhere.

One good thing this week: that dreadful writing class is over. More or less I’d checked out since my critique 4 weeks ago. But still I had to do critiques of the other students’ pages and I had to do a final essay on my “writing process.” All that definitely got in the way. If I have to read, I really only want to read what I want. I know that sounds horrible, but I don’t feel like reading crap right now.

On that note, I just got my latest Amazon order in. I ordered a bunch of books as a part of my summer reading plans. This summer is devoted to reading classics or at least major authors who I’ve either never read or not read too much from. So, here’s what I got:

  • The Bell by Iris Murdoch (I’ve always wanted to read something from her, but for some reason haven’t.)
  • A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway (I hate to admit this, but I’ve never read Hemingway. Bad.)
  • The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (A friend recommended I read his after reading the first couple chapters of my WIP. I’m not too sure what this means about my work.)
  • The Complete Shorter Fiction of Virginia Woolf (Read a couple of things by her years ago, but it’s been awhile and thought I’d get reimmersed with her short stories.)
  • On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan (This has been on my to read list for a while and it finally came out in paperback. Liked Atonement, so thought I’d check this out.)

Just rushed through a somewhat horrid chicklit book that a friend got me for my birthday. Books & music–rarely should one buy these for me…I’m too picky about what I like. The only person I trust when it comes to music is my brother–we share similar tastes. But books, I don’t think there is anyone that I trust to know what I like. My reading taste can be a little scattered. And I don’t tend to read the best sellers at least till months/years after the hoopla around them has died down. And even then, when I have read them, I’m usually underwhelmed. I like the books that no one else reads. But I digress…. The book was Cocktails for Three by Madeleine Wickham. She writes the Confessions of a Shopaholic series under the pseudonym Sophie Kinsella. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate good chicklit now and again; although not so much in the last couple of years. But this was just way too predictable and one of the main characters, who I assume I was supposed to feel sympathetic to as a reader, just annoyed the crap out of me. I just rushed through it to get it done, so if my friend asks I can say I read it. The funny thing is, I was able to plow through this book, which I didn’t really care for from the beginning, but I’ve got 2 others (non-chicklit) that I can’t force myself to do the same with–Love Walked In by Marisa de los Santos and The Flanders Panel by Arturo Perez-Reverte. I’ve started both of them a couple of times now and can’t make it past the first 20-pages with the former and the first 5-pages with the later. I hate buying books and not reading them. I usually force myself through them, but those 2, it’s just not happening. Oh well. I’m just looking forward to starting on my summer reading list. I hate when things get in the way of my plans.

So, what am I going to do about my writing. I could set another deadline. I don’t know. I’ve already missed all the ones I have set. Maybe instead of setting an end date as my goal, maybe I should be giving myself the goal of writing every day. At least a 1000-words a day. That is totally doable. I need to be better about my writing practice. I need to be more disciplined. So, maybe that’s what my new goal is. No more dates. They’re getting me nowhere and all they do is make me feel guilty and frustrated, which is definitely not the feeling to go into writing with. So, I think that’s it. And I think bringing some discipline to my life is what this year is all about. I need discipline in my writing and I need discipline when it comes to working out (something else that has fallen by the wayside after a few really good weeks). Those are the two major things right now. If I could get those two things down then that would be a major breakthrough. I guess another area would be I need more discipline in pursuing my non-creative writing pursuits. I need to be freelancing more. There is no excuse for why I’m not. I am my own worst enemy.

So, 1000-words and a work-out at the gym tomorrow. I’d say start tonight, but I’m realistic.

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