I am so good at letting go of time. Of surrendering time. Of losing time.
This is all a fancy way of saying wasting time.
This morning Wee One was at “school,” a ministry a local church does where they take her for a morning.a week. It’s nice to get her around other kids and practicing words and to learn about turn taking from someone other than me. And that means I have a whole morning kid free.
I had planned to brainstorm about my characters for the story/book I decided to just fucking write at the beginning of the month. I even sat here last night and made up little sheets for my main characters – all I have to do is fill in the blank.
But no. I
- Played a stupid game on my phone
- Had a cup of coffee
- Brainstormed one list for my story
- Pick up a writing assignment for Textbroker
- Research Child Labor Laws
- Get on to WordPress
- Try to work on a draft and finally scrap it
- Get more coffee
- Dick around on that stupid game again
- Look through my reader for inspiration
- Find a publishing blog and pull up eight different posts from there
- Go onto Goodreads and mark a book I want to read
- Find WO’s toy fishing pole that is all tangled up and untangle it enough that she can play with it.
- Realize I have to go to the gas station/grocery store
- Sit down to write this thing.
I think I still have time for the grocery store before I pick WO up. But there it is: A morning wasted. I could get a medal.
And WO would wear it.
Edited to add: After a day’s reflection, I realize that I didn’t get “nothing” done, it just wasn’t anything that I planned on. I did make it to the grocery store, lest you wondering. We were out of coffee. Priorities.