So Far…

It has been an uneventful week so far, save for the hacking coughs my husband and three-year-old have right now. I had to get up early this morning and sit in the recliner with my toddler so she could get some sleep. It helped her stop coughing and enabled her to get some rest.  I’m praying it bypasses me entirely. I have yet to get going on my workouts and writing. I don’t feel pressed at this point to do that. I don’t like resolutions as I feel they set you up for failure.  I believe in “everything in its own time.”

This week, I’m simply tired. I know I will get moving and get writing very shortly…possibly today. I know that. I admit though, it is so nice to hunker down in my recliner with my fuzzy blanket, a cup of Humpy Camel Juice and read on my new Kindle while a fire crackles away in the fireplace. Can you blame me for not wanting to do much else? <<insert evil grin here>>

It’s only Tuesday, so I still have a good space of week ahead of me.  Mondays are typically my day to do nothing. Today is full of potential as is every day. Perhaps I’ll break out my hand weights, my steps and workout as I watch “Biggest Loser” tonight – since it is premiering the new season.

Writing-wise – I’m in a state of flux. Not sure what I want to do. I don’t feel pressed to write just yet. The hunger is not there. I’m not sure how to feel about that. I’m not down. I’m not in a bad place. I guess my mind is sorting through some things right now that need to be organized before I sit down to put “pen to paper”.  It will come.  Of course, I’ve been saying this for the last several years. At some point I need to DO rather than talk about it.

Oh, I just realized how downright dull this post is! I think it is time for more coffee!

Have a great Tuesday!! 😀

0 thoughts on “So Far…

  1. I’m so sorry your hubby and little one aren’t feeling their best! Fingers and toes crossed that the lurgy skips you altogether.

    I know what you mean about resolutions. Write when you feel like you have a story you need to tell. ♥

  2. Do you know, I almost never feel a drive to write anymore. I just do it almost to get it done. At least that’s how it works from the time until I start writing. Then, every once in awhile, maybe every other day or so, I’ll find myself really enjoying what I’m doing and happy with the results.

    It’s disillusioning. Writing has always been the thing that gave me the most pleasure, but I realize that was only the effect that came about when I finished a (short) piece. Writing a book doesn’t give me as many highs. Or I don’t know. Maybe it will when I’m deeper into my revision.

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