Since menopause hit me with a punch to the gut – and everywhere else – I’ve had trouble focusing on tasks that in the past were literally no brainers for me. I was balancing the checkbook the other day and my mind started drifting to my current WIP and I began running the plot line in my head, trying to figure out some good twists and turns for my characters. Before I knew it, the balance in my checkbook was off by about a million bucks and I’d written the wrong amount on two of the bills I was paying.
After Mass last weekend, a friend asked me how I liked the sermon. I had to fib and say it was great when I had no idea – no frickin’ idea- what it had been about because, yet again, my mind she was a wanderin’. That’s pretty sick. Coming out of Mass and having to tell a fib right away. No exactly the most Christian thing I’ve ever done.
On my days off I try to start writing at about 6 am. If I’m going at a good clip I can get 9-10 hours of it accomplished before I need to start thinking about dinner. Sometimes I’ll take a break to toss in a load of laundry…maybe drop by the market to get some groceries.
But for the past month my mind has had trouble sitting at my desk and creating. I come up with all sorts of excuses to pull me away from the laptop, and I usually fall victim to them. The newest episode of Castle is on, of I need to catch up on Sleepy Hollow. Jill Shalvis has a new book out that I just have to read – now! There’s a new In Death addition waiting for me on my Kindle.
All these things are pulling me away from my writing.
Then, yesterday, it hit me. These things, these distractions, aren’t pulling me away. They’ll all still be there waiting for me once I’m done writing. No, what’s making me procrastinate so much is me. Not the mundane little things I allow to get to me. Me. Myself. I.
For whatever reason, I’m a little nervous about this new WIP. I think about it all the time, truly, running plot lines in Church, thinking up dialogue when I’m at my paying job. I think about it all the time. And what I’m thinking up is good. Really good, for me. So why can’t I commit to getting it down on paper?
Probably time for some therapy…the question is, retail, or professional?