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Non-Sequential Chores

Sometimes you just have to do something, anything.

 

I know, this is under the heading of “Well, duh” advice.  However, I have had it demonstrated for me three different times today.  Four if you count the library.  This being Non-Sequitur Thursday, I think it will be appropriate to tell three small but differing stories with a common theme.  Think of it like Love Boat or Fantasy Island (if you don’t get the reference, consider that another non sequitur).

 

Finish That Novel May is not going well.  I seem to spend a lot of time looking at what I have and asking, “What is this?  Where do I go now?  Oh crap!”  Well, today at lunch I just started writing a scene.  And it was good!  It was important!  And dramatic!  I finished that scene and I wanted to pump my fists in the air and shout, “Yes! THAT was a scene!”  I started another scene during the two o’clock break, wrote a little more of it just before going home, and I walked out of that place wanting to sing.

 

I went to the library and worked on another chore that needs must be done, but feel less triumph over that so shall not count it as proof of today’s opening sentence.  However, I was fortunate enough to find a few good books at their ongoing book sale before I left.

 

At home I was hit with a huge wave of  I Can’t Do ANYTHING!  I felt down, dumpy and sad.  Then about ten or fifteen minutes before Steven was due to arrive home I said to myself, “Just clean till he gets home.”  I couldn’t believe how much I got done.  Not everything, of course, because my house is kind of a sty.  But I felt much better and was able to greet my husband with a big smile.

 

Till I confessed all the stuff I had not gotten done, then I felt a little sad again.  One thing I had been going to do was to make a tossed salad for tomorrow’s lunch, including hard-boiled egg.

 

“Do you want me to start the eggs for you?”  Steven asked.  I said OK, because if I couldn’t manage to make the salad I could always eat the eggs for breakfast.

 

Full disclosure:  I forgot to check on the eggs to see when they started boiling.  Luckily Steven remembered before the water had boiled away.  I made the salad.  The eggs were just right.

 

And that made me feel good enough to tackle the other chore I had been putting off for today:  writing my blog post.

 

To My Lame Self Be True

One can always write something.  Yes, I have said that before.  It bears repeating.  If the project at hand really, truly cannot progress, turn the page (or turn back a few pages; my notebook is not the least bit organized) and work on something else.

 

Of course, this is tricky.  Sometimes if one perseveres in looking at the blank page, one finds one is able to progress on the project at hand after all.  Sometimes after working on something else, one never returns to the original stalled project.

 

On the other hand, sometimes projects stall for a reason.  Putting your head down and bulling your way through is not always the best way to go.  Except when it is.

 

Oh, here I am working up into that old saw, “To thine own self be true” (old saw as in ancient truism, nothing to do with those hideous movies) (yes, I KNOW some people loved those movies; let’s not get distracted on matters of taste, shall we?).

 

All of the preceding may have led some readers to deduce that Finish That Novel May is not going as well as I had hoped.  This would be an accurate deduction.  However, if one inferred that I successfully worked on another project (not just this silly blog post), that, too, would be accurate.

 

I tried to progress on the novel.  Finding that not going so well (or, indeed, going anywhere at all), I turned back a few pages and wrote some more on one of my articles for the June issue of Mohawk Valley Living magazine.  I think it’s pretty good.  I felt pretty happy with it.  So I turned  some pages forward, past the stalled novel, and wrote the first four paragraphs of this post.

 

It being Lame Post Friday, I shall feel free to publish this as my blog post.  Since I have proven to myself that I can so write (at least SOMETHING), I shall tackle the novel once again.  As always, thank you for playing.