My writing time has been sabotaged!

I have become protective of my writing time. Intensely fierce. I’ve never felt that way before.

I was surprised by my reaction on Monday, truly surprised that I felt like wrapping my mountain lioness self around my laptop and saying “Mine.” Not the laptop, but the writing time the laptop represented.

Of all of my workdays, Mondays are the most structured and enjoyable. I am that rarest of rare creatures who actually looks forward to Mondays. Why? There is a 4-hour block between two work shifts that always is my writing time. Always. I never schedule anything else during that timeframe. Never. That’s why I was so fixated on losing that time this week.

I have additional writing times blocked off in my calendar, but I am guilty of treating them as “flexible.” This is my weakness and I have no *bleep*ing excuse for that. I don’t know how it began, but I’m sure you can relate to this scenario:

“This is my time,” you commit to yourself, and then you hit writer’s block and suddenly realize you need to go out right now and get [insert item] from the store. During your next set-aside writing time, you think, “I ran one errand at this time before, and that was so productive that today I can make two stops.” Suddenly you’re scheduling doctor appointments–“I’m not doing anything but writing.” Television shows need to be cleared from the DVR–“I can take a break from writing.” Meetings that happen anytime occur now–“I’ll write when I get back.” Before you realize it, your writing time competes with coffee dates with friends, laundry, automobile services, house cleaning and everything else, and it has lost. Your precious, planned writing schedule has been sabotaged–by you!

I’m guilty of that, except Mondays. Yes, doctor appointments and car repairs are vital, but I will schedule them on Mondays only as a last resort or if there is an immediate issue. When I was delayed on Monday by circumstances, I felt like a lioness protecting her cubs–in this case, my laptop, coffee and planner. I realized what it was: routine and trust.

I’ve become so used to this commitment to myself, it’s so easy to do because there’s no excuse not to. I’m out and away from the evil distractions of the house. I settle down at a convenient place between the two shift locations so that it’s easy to achieve and maintain this routine. It feels good. It feels right.

Why am I not possessive of the other times? I haven’t figured that out yet. Or maybe I haven’t figured out how.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. sheryl kay oder
    Feb 03, 2016 @ 23:13:07

    I sent you an e-mail.


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