It is Tuesday and if I don’t put some words on the page, I will feel miserable tomorrow. Like I didn’t visit a sick friend when I was supposed to or like I went to a party but I didn’t tell my friend that I went because I went without her. That kind of feeling. So I would rather torture myself now and just put some words on the page so tomorrow I can have a better day. And yes, it will be worth it.
I am feeling like that kid in class who always has to ask, “how many sentences? How many pages does it have to be?” How long does this need to be to satisfy me and guarantee I don’t feel so awful tomorrow? Does this suffice? What if I add another paragraph, would that qualify it as an actual piece of writing?
And now I feel like that other kid in class who every single day just has to say, “but I don’t know what to write about…” Exactly! I mined my mind for some nuggets that could be swindled for some kind of writing, but I came out empty handed. “Nothing ever happens to me. I don’t have anything to write about. My life is not interesting.” That is me. Right now.
I wonder if I can pull off that move by kids when they spend so much time just getting their notebook ready and looking for that perfect pencil to write with. Procrastination. Putting off writing for as long as possible. Damnit! I should have hidden my laptop from myself and spent a good hour just searching for it. And then once found, should have washed the dishes.
“Is writing time over yet?” Yup I have heard those questions from kids too. And I am asking that seriously at this very moment. “How much longer?” As if writing is so torturous that I just can’t take it. But it is!! It is agony. Why do words hurt so much?
“Do I really have to?” Yes, it is good for you. Not sure how, but it’s good. Well I think I have had enough goodness to last me a while, at least until next Tuesday.
Ok class, you can put your pencils down, writing time is over. “But, teacher I just started writing and I want to finish my story!” AHHHHH!!
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