Well, Thursday, Friday, and yesterday were total massive fking fail at work – I was late home from work every single one of those days (not home until 9-ish on Thursday, between 6-7 the other two), and they were major stressors for me. I have a very low frustration tolerance, and I’m not good with idiots or idiotic instructions or instructions which I feel are idiotic. Consequently, when I got home from work, there was nothing I wanted to do less than throw myself into another stressful situation (namely, writing).
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love to write. I’ve been doing it for over a decade and I hope to continue doing it for a good long while. I hope that one day I’ll end up published. But that doesn’t mean writing isn’t stressful, that it isn’t something I have to actually turn my brain on for. And after 12 hours of bullshit, my brain just wants to go to sleep for the night. Because of the stress at work, and because of my own fking laziness (I’m willing to take my fair share of the blame here).
On the mornings where I can convince myself to get up early (like today), I just fking procrastinate like I have all the time in the world to get shit done. Which is funny, really, because I don’t. It’s a real shame that my self doesn’t seem to realize that, and thinks it’s totally cool to play fifty games of Freecell before work, and a couple dozen sudokus. I’ve always been a procrastinator, I bitch about it every year, but this is the one year where I really can’t afford it.
And sure, yeah. I hit 50k (though if I was calling it quits, I’d want to write another 5k, as that’s how much of my present wordcount is on the first FailStory). I could stop right now and just accept this win for this year. But Competitive Me whispers in my ear, “Yeah, but Kate. Think about it. You do still have several hours a day where you’re just sitting on your ass at home. You really should be writing. And what about those weekends? Are you really telling me that you can’t get some writing done then?”
If I can get anything written, I’ll post another excerpt from the crack story later. The document is open, calling to me…and here I am blogging.