I went to bed fairly late last night (just check the timestamp on my blog post), and woke up at 8:30 this morning to mow the lawn. I should’ve waited two hours. For one, I was still exhausted. For another, the grass was still wet. It was awful, but I got the job done. My lawn is really starting to look pretty nice, which is surprising considering the (small) amount of work and money I’ve put into it. I’m going to chalk it up to Social Constructionism (about all I did to make it look better was decide to start making it look better), and get on with my life.
I don’t write well at home. I can’t remember if I’ve talked about that before or not, but I really can’t do much writing at my home computer. I’m great at scribbling down pages during a boring business meeting, or during an hour at work, waiting for an engineer to get back to me with markup. And my very most productive time is during a 20-minute sermon at church on Sunday morning. I’ve written more chapters during those little bits of time than everywhere else combined.
When I was in high school, I wrote at home. I was good at it. One night, after watching Empire Records for the first time, I sat up all night finishing a novel I was working on (I mentioned that last night in less than glowing terms). I’m not saying now that it went well, but I put out a hundred pages sitting in the basement typing on my dad’s crappy little PC.
I can’t do that anymore. There’s too many distractions at home. I’m not blaming T– for it, I just can’t lose myself in another world when I’m at home. My world at home is too pressing.
I like to think that if writing were my only job, things would be different. But, then, the idea of renting a cheap office space to go work on my novel for five hours a day isn’t altogether unpleasant. It could have a certain charm.
Anyway, I tried to write today. After I mowed and got cleaned up, I sat down at my computer and slid up to the keyboard with the full intention of slapping down two chapters of King Jason’s War. But it didn’t happen. I didn’t write a word. I ended up playing WoW to help my dad level one of his redundant paladins instead. It was frustrating.
T– had a crop from 1-6, and I’d already made arrangements to spend that time over at K–‘s place (N– went to the crop, too, so I knew he’d be free). We had a lot of Tatoo and Redbull, and played several cheesy little games on his new XBox. Time passed way too quickly. One of the games we were playing, I recommended to him because I’d read somewhere that everytime the reviewer loaded it up, he lost track of time while playing it. I considered that high praise. Also, at this point, having lost track of about six hours at it already, I can definitely confirm his analysis.
So that was fun, but over way too soon. I came home and played some more of my dad’s character on WoW, and T– made us a couple turkey sandwiches, and we watched The Dead Zone. That was our whole evening. At nine she said she was going to go to bed, and I said I was going to go for a walk, and we watched two more episodes before we got around to following through on that. But she did hers, and I did mine, and now the house is all dark and quiet, and I’m quite exhausted.
It was a good day, though. I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Maybe I’ll finish six pages of King Jason’s War while McElroy talks about one of King David’s. It could happen.