…to my own malaise…that is, sloth. I have been sitting for the past several hours, very, very busily addressing my bills, my e-mail, my other pressing concerns — and not writing one stinkin’ word. I mean real word — real writing, as opposed to bread-and-butter e-mails that say thanks for lunch yesterday, when are we meeting, can we reschedule, what’s on the agenda. That’s not Writing. And as I was taking out letters to the mailbox and hauling in the recycling bin, I realized that I have been procrastinating. Even this is procrastinating. Isn’t it? Aaaagh!
Nothing like the taste of crow, or at least one’s own advice. “Just apply your ass to the chair,” I tell my students, shamelessly stealing the line from many a writer (can’t remember who was the first to say it, but a Google search brought up several versions and several claimants, alas.) As if it were so easy.
O, fickle Muse, why do you vacation when I most need you? I have just one day per week that I can devote to you — where have you gone?
I will now apply my fingers to the keyboard and report back later on my success or lack thereof.