Update – You’ll notice I’m running late this week. So late I’ve decided to combine two weeks’ worth of updates into one, even though it’s only Thursday. Consider it a bonus for Leap Day. Besides, tomorrow starts a new month so it all evens out.
This is what happened. In Week 8, all those ideas my subconscious threw at me did indeed knock me off course. That and the new paid assignment successfully kept me from writing more than a few lines per day. Mostly I did flash. I did do a bit of typing on the side project, and eased myself back into the romance book, but nothing I could write a blog about.
Then Week 8 transitioned into Week 9, and that’s when the fun began. I’ve stated several times I have an ongoing addiction to computer games. As of last week I’d been game-free since before Christmas, for a little over two months. Take notice of the past tense. For some reason over the weekend—I think I got bored with the paid assignment I was working on—I hopped on over to a gaming site for a little break with some Spider Solitaire.
Ever see one of those movies where the guy agrees to have “just one drink”? Then the scene cuts to the next morning and him waking up naked in Vegas with the mother of all hangovers and Wayne Newton snoring in bed beside him. Or something like that. That was me on Saturday, minus Wayne Newton. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d just cussed myself out and gone back to work, but I didn’t do that. I went back to the games instead. Also on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. And I wasn’t even in Vegas.
During these relapses, crucial things tend to get swept aside. TV’s not that critical, but I did skip a lot of my faves. Also meals. And work on the assignment, currently my only source of writing income, which also has a deadline. I managed to whip out some flash scenes before bed, or type a couple of lines on one of the projects before jumping over to the game sites. There was one bright spot: Tuesday morning, instead of heading for the laptop, I stayed in bed and ended up writhing nearly two full longhand pages on the romance book. You’d think that would have broken the spell. No such luck. Something happens to me when I sit down at the keyboard during one of these episodes. I go for the games and just stay there for hours at a stretch. I’ve heard there are kids who get so caught up in playing they don’t even go to the bathroom. They just let loose in their seat. I haven’t hit that humiliating benchmark yet, but the organs are old and starting to give out. It’s only a matter of time.
It’s like falling into a sinkhole. One minute you’re strolling along and life is fine and dandy, then suddenly the ground gives way and you’re falling into the depths and can’t see any way out. It can be anything: gambling, drinking, drugs, social media, the endless timesucks on the internet. For me it was the stupid games that came with my laptop’s hard drive. I was even too cheap to pick an expensive addiction.
Wednesday became my day of reckoning. Of course with all this going on, my insomnia decided to join the party. I woke up around 3 a.m. and couldn’t fall back to sleep. By five I was wide awake and furious at myself. In a fit of self-loathing I decided Screw This. I got up, brewed my morning mug of tea, took it into the office with me, sat down and got to work. Over the next twelve hours or so I slogged my way through the work I’d been putting off for the previous three days, with only a break here and there for things like food, bathroom breaks and a shower. I’ll show you, Mr. Subconscious. You’re not the boss of me.
And it worked, more or less. I didn’t quite finish the bugger, but I only had a few pages to go when I finally shut down for the day/night. If that didn’t cure my insomnia, I’m not sure what would. Well, it didn’t. This morning I woke up around 2 am. At 3 I threw on my robe, went into the office, wrapped up the paid work and went back to bed. Got up around 7:30. I was pretty draggy for most of the day, but the work got done. Better still, I’d proven my point to myself: If I put my mind to it and take serious action, I can do damn near anything. I don’t have to fall into the sinkhole. It will only swallow me if I allow it to.
I still need to whip up some writing for today. I’ll do that while watching TV.
That’s how I’ll be wrapping up this month. No books completed, no income from fiction writing. But I scored a major personal victory over my spineless, procrastinating self. There’s a whole new month ahead of me now, 31 pristine days. The romance is starting to pick up steam; I’ll bet I can get it done. Maybe now I’ll be able to sleep through the night with only the occasional pee break. See you all next week.
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