Thursday, November 21, 2013

Coneward Bound

You know that thing, when the toilet (or tub or sink) isn't *totally* clogged, but it takes freaking forever to drain?  And so you're like, "well, it still sorta works, so maybe I don't have to deal with this exactly at this moment." So you go on with your day and make a mental note not to use the downstairs bathroom for any protracted visits.

Well, I have been having some epic solidarity with the plumbing, let me tell you.  I am just so choked with obligation and resentment and self-loathing that I can't seem to get anything done these days.  I get up and compile my to-do list by thinking "okay, why am I not allowed to do any writing today?"  I go to bed thinking of all the time I've wasted stalling and procrastinating and putting my headspace EVERYwhere except where it's supposed to be.  And all the while, I eat like a garbage disposal.  (Because when you don't have time to have any fun, the only fun you're allowed is the kind that comes disguised as *efficiency* - as a cheap time-saving reward for all that not-fun you're having.)

And if you do this for long enough, the brain-hamsters start getting louder, and you start thinking that maybe you're not cut out to be a real writer after all - because, you know, real writers write every day.  Real writers treat it as their first priority.  Real writers have self-discipline and a work regimen and the drive to get things done.  So probably you should apologize for wasting everyone's time and go see if it's not too late to grow a career in food service.

This is, of course, horseshit.

Speaking of horses, here's a good one:



Majestic, no?

That's the Duke of Wellington, immortalized in glory outside the Gallery of Modern Art in Glasgow.  The cone has a long and storied history in itself, but at this point, it's been there long enough that we can safely to call it "icone-ic".  (See what I did there?  --Shut up, damn you, I'm trying!)

Anyway, I'm leaving today to spend a glorious week in Glasgow with my in-laws, and I can't tell you how excited I am to get back there again.  It's a magical land of green hills and gray skies, pubs and pies and people who love me - and I am going to try really hard to use this visit to fix my slow-draining soul. 

Apologies in the meantime for emails unsent, promises unkept, kindnesses unreciprocated, and this neurosis-laden post here.  You are a splendid human being - yes, you! - and I will prove it to you with a vengeance as soon as I get back.

That's plenty.

4 comments:

  1. You taught me something today. I read about that statue and its cone...

    But yeah, I know exactly how you feel in terms of not designating time to write. The thing is I do love to procrastinate. I'm thinking of downloading Write or Die and seeing how that goes but lately I've been dedicating whole days to lazying about then making up for them at a later date. The problem with doing that instead of writing when the time is available is that you make days for writing and then BAM! You have to do something or family comes around.

    I also have a blocked sink... Blocked with gravel.... I don't know why.

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    1. I KNOW, right! That's always how it goes for me too - I front-load all my responsible stuff so that I can have days set aside explicitly for going to Narnia, and then something, some person from Porlock, always comes along and interrupts. But I am SO glad to know that I'm not the only one guilty of procrastinating!

      ...and just a little bit worried about your sink. That's rather disconcerting.

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  2. Pfffft... You ARE a real writer.

    Because even when you write your writings about not writing, the writing you've written is as captivating as any "real" writer's written writing, right?

    So there -- can't argue with that logic, now can ya?

    Enjoy Glasgow -- sounds fabulous!

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    1. Man - that's me told! (I'm still not sure how, but that is a definitive smack-up if I've ever seen one. I am IMPRESSED.) And thanks for the good wishes - we are off to a grand start!

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