It is the last day of June. I seem to remember making a blog post where I said June was going to be All About My Novel and perhaps I would have a Julyathon concerning physical fitness. I should have known that July would sneak up on me. These things always do.
I must admit, to begin with, that June was not exactly All About the Novel. Some days I did not work on it at all. Some days I only managed a little tiny bit. I tried not to get discouraged or down on myself. That is always a danger. For example, I could say, “Oh to hell with it, I missed yesterday and I didn’t do very much today. I might as well give up!” Or I could go the drill sergeant route: “I’m a miserable moron who can’t write a word! A lazy, lollygagging bum! I’ve got to get to work NOW!” (Actually, I usually talk to myself in the second person “YOU’RE a lazy bum!” But I was afraid of being unclear.)
However, I did manage to keep making some sort of progress. Now the month is over and where do I find myself? Um, on the couch, composing my blog post as I type it into the computer (it’s actually a netbook or some such thing) (it was given to me by a generous sister). My novel has not progressed by leaps and bounds, and tomorrow should be the beginning of my Julyathon.
Hmmm… I wrote the title of this post before writing the post, and I don’t know that it really fits. Oh dear, that is OK on Non-Sequitur Thursday but is less than ideal for Middle-aged Musings Monday. What’s a blogger to do?
