*pic dedicated to Casey McKay
I have people coming into town this weekend and a house that hasn't been cleaned in a month. Oh, I've done things like washed clothes, but the overall state of my house is a tag...neglected.
Last night my conversation with my husband went like this:
ME: I'm cleaning the house tomorrow. <I say this forcefully like I'm going to conquer Sparta>
HUSBAND: <Not looking up from his phone> Okay
ME: No, I'm going to f%$^ing do it. I'm cleaning the f&%*ing house tomorrow.
HUSBAND: <Looks over his phone to pin me with a look> Are you threatening me?
ME: <eyes widen> Maybe...<considers the possibilities> wait, no. I'm hyping myself up! I can't write tomorrow. I canNOT write tomorrow. No writing. Just cleaning. Then I'm going to read. No writing.
HUSBAND: <gives me a dubious look, then goes back to reading an article on his phone--that is the size of a tablet and not used for talking>
ME: <start muttering under my breath, I'm going to do it, I'm going to clean like a crazy person>
I wrote three blog posts before buckling down to start cleaning. I got a good thirty minutes of cleaning in before I started writing again. That is the law of probability.
If you are hung up on a story, you will have a breakthrough at the least opportune moment.
If you are supposed to be writing, you will be doing anything but writing.
If you are supposed to be doing anything but writing, you will be writing.