“To enjoy good houses and good books in self-respect and decent comfort, seems to me to be the pleasurable end towards which all societies of human beings ought now to struggle.”
In fact, we moved house yesterday, and now exist amid a confused welter of furniture and boxes. Everything takes twice as long as usual, because each thing you need is in a different box, and the box’s label is probably not closely related to its contents.
Needless to say, with all the insanity of the past month (of which moving was but a part), I have fallen prey once more to the ravening beast that is procrastination.
I am madly behind on my Cunning Plan (all right, experience has proved it less cunning than a fox who’s just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University, but it wasn’t bad) to finish the first draft of my WIP by the end of the year.
I have a secret weapon.
Well, it would be secret if I hadn’t told everyone who would listen, and I am now telling you:
The trick is to not work them.
Not paid work, that is.
As of now, I work Tuesdays to Fridays at the DDJ. Saturdays are for housework, Sundays for rest and Mondays for writing.
I am hoping that I can still make it to the end of the first draft by the end of the year. I’ll have to do the calculations (and find which boxes my writing stuff is in) but I am hopeful.
Four months to go. Four months of Mondays.
“Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.”