I haven’t been writing as often as I would have liked to and I could give you plenty of excuses why that’s so.
I could blame my fibromyalgia, which has been flaring up. That would be partly true. I have had to take a bit more medication the last week or so to keep the aching at bay; but if truth be told, not enough to excuse my laxness in writing.
I could blame the weather. We’ve had far too much of this heavy, muggy weather for my liking. It makes my fibromyalgia act up, I think, since my body tends to ache more in this weather than in the dry sunny weather. The overcast weather also makes me feel like crawling back into bed and curling up with the cat. I seem to have a rather visceral reaction to the weather. But if truth be told, I’ve gotten some other household tasks done, so it isn’t the weather I can blame for not writing.
I could blame the amount of work I’ve had to do around the house for my dearth of posts, but there really hasn’t been much out of the ordinary. Nothing major was accomplished. Laundry and dirty dishes to wash have never interfered with writing before. My husband put in a couple of new dry wells – I watched from the windows. I could try to convince you that I used a lot of energy watching him and had none left to write.
I could blame writer’s block – tell you I haven’t had any ideas upon which to expound. I could say that – but it wouldn’t be true. The fact of the matter is that I’ve had several ideas percolating for the past week and I’m just praying that I can recall them all. I should have written them down. I will when I’m done here – maybe.
I could blame my family for distracting me. It wouldn’t be true, but I could do it. Actually, I’ve been pretty much on my own. I haven’t had anyone making significant demands on me.
The truth is . . . I’ve been lazy. I’ve sat here on the computer playing games for any number of hours when I could have been writing. I’ve even thought, as I played those games, that I should write about this or that. Later.
The truth is . . . later is like tomorrow – it never comes. I need to apply some self-discipline soon, before this becomes a bad habit. It seems like I have self-discipline in spurts. There are times that I can do what needs to be done with no problem. There are more times when I can just sit here, entertaining myself and sort of spacing out.
I’d like to think that those are restorative times, like conscious naps. I’d like to say all this lack of activity has been a meditative state. But truth be told, I’ve heard God whispering in my ear that I should get my butt moving.
To be honest, I’ve given in to laziness, sinner that I am.
I pledge to listen to God . . . . . . and get my butt moving.