At 8:30 a.m. I’m going to start writing, aiming for my 1,667 word minimum, and then the rest of my life is going to interrupt me. Family tradition dictates that my evening will be busy—tomorrow is Thanksgiving after all.
Now, I want to spend a few more minutes perusing a book that has interested me and drinking my tea. I’ll be back when I have an update on my word count.
Update (sometime the next day…)—
I’m trying to remember what happened, but I can’t. I didn’t get started writing, because I read that book, or half of it anyway, then I started skimming because it went from interesting to blah to really? in less time than it took me to flip two pages. It was so full of filler and utter useless garbage that I almost gave it a 2 star review on Amazon, and the 2 stars would’ve been because the author gave me the book and I’d have felt bad giving it a 1 star. I stopped myself. (I try not to review books unless I have something good to say or the book is pricey, nonfiction, and doesn’t fulfill the promises it makes in the description—other readers need to know they’re not going to get what they’re thinking of paying for.) I need to remember that these time management/procrastination cure/this is the way to fix all your problems books are a gimmick. I don’t know why I fall for that every time, but I do. I am swearing off these kinds of books forever. I’ve learned my lesson this time! I have!
Okay, probably not, but maybe!
Then I did something else for about an hour and I don’t remember what that was. Then of course it was time for everything else I had to do and I got home sometime around 9 PM and no, I didn’t even attempt to make up the words I supposedly wanted to write yesterday morning.