(no subject)

Slept long (for me) and hard last night and am feeling not so blah today.  Feel like I want to start a new story, but I don't have one a-percolating in the brain.  What I do have is a 36 page document with little snippets of ideas, most only a short paragraph.  I should be able to find something in there to write about, right?  Then again, I could start on the novel outline -- if I could decide which idea I want to write about that is.  Dunno why I'm so hesitant to start one.  Intimidated, I suppose.  Although there is the one that's halfway done.  I could go through and outline what I have and then see if I can finish it.  Will I?  Stay tuned.

Writing and time a-wasting

I managed to bribe myself into writing today by offering massive quantities of carbs for every twenty words or so.  Net result so far:  140 words, 2 cinnamon rolls, 1/2 cup or so of Cracker Jacks and a Dove chocolate bit.  Oh, and a couple of pounds of fat and a new roll around the waistline, I'm sure.  I felt like a greyhound, chasing around the track for the chocolate bunny .... c'mon girl, just twenty more feet and you can have a cinnamon roll!  Yeah, girl!  Go!  Ok, snarf it down and get back on the track. 

Oh, the pains we go through to produce our craft, eh, my fellow writers?  Mwhahahahahaha!

On a more serious note, if you haven't yet heard, Jay Lake, whose amazing cancer adventure began a year ago at this time, has found that contrary to doctor's expectations, his cancer might be recurring, and possibly in the liver.  He's making no secret of this, go read his journal to see (jaylake ).  It was also a year ago that I had a troublesome episode that was never fully resolved--a probable not, but maybe.  Not much to do but wait and see and put it from mind completely.  But it brings to mind how uncertain life is.  How one can go blithely on their way, expecting to wake up tomorrow and the next and every one after that until infinity, but just around the corner, disaster beckons.  Of course one can't live tiptoeing their way forward, or hiding in the closet.  We just have to forge ahead and make every day count.

Am I making every day count?  Of course not.  And I should be.  I'll take this as a wake-up call.  I hope it doesn't fade away in a month or two.  I suspect wasting time is the one thing I'd regret as my life flashes before my eyes.

How about you?