8:00 a.m. I sit at my desk, open my laptop, and start writing. I've been up since six, taken the puppy out twice, made myself coffee, fed both pets, done my Wordle, then played with Buttercup to tire her out enough so that she will sleep here next to my desk on her dog bed.
8:01 a.m. Airdrop picture to laptop. Save. Rename. Upload to Wix gallery. Add to blog. Caption.
8:05 a.m Realize my nails are too long and are clicking on the keyboard. I really have no choice, must stop writing to clip them.
8:10 a.m. Locate nail clippers after searching both bathrooms. Unintentionally wake puppy, who has major FOMO if I leave the room. (Is this my fault? Did I spend too much time with her in the last two months? Is every waking second of every day too much?)
8:20 a.m. Apologize to puppy for waking her. Briefly consider all life choices, then briefly consider crawling into dog bed with Buttercup. Crawl into dog bed with Buttercup.
8:22 a.m. Realize that my long-term plan to never wear “work pants” again is dependent upon improving my skills as a writer, so must get back to writing. Return to desk.
8:24 a.m. Write for 12 solid minutes.
8:36 a.m. Hear the cat playing in the water dish in the other room. Puppy also hears. Get up and shoo cat away, clean up water spilled on hardwood floor so that it doesn't rot the wood. Return to writing.
8:38 a.m. Hear the cat playing in the water dish, again. Clean up water, again. Puppy follows. Make decision to move water dish inside the dog crate in the bedroom. ("Ha! Take that, kitty!") (Wait, where is the puppy? She’s probably fine. )
8:40 a.m. Write for 30 seconds to capture hilarious cat/water anecdote, then go in search of puppy. Find her chewing on shoe by front door. Throw shoe in closet. Encourage puppy to return to dog bed. Resist urge to join her. Continue writing.
8:45 a.m. Phone chimes. Moms Demand Action app reminder. Silence phone. Apologize to puppy who was awakened. She looks at me with tired puppy eyes, sighs, then gets out of the dog bed and moves 10 feet away. Follow her and take picture. Return to desk.
8:50 a.m. Airdrop picture to laptop. Save. Rename. Upload to Wix gallery. Add to blog.
8:54 a.m. For some reason, puppy does not settle. Instead, she hops up onto my unmade bed. Since when can she do that? Stop writing to take puppy off bed, then make bed. Encourage puppy to return to dog bed. She does, with a heavy sigh.
9:00 a.m. Begin writing. For reals, for reals. Phone is silenced. Puppy is sleeping. Cat is sleeping.
9:01 a.m. Realize that all I have in my stomach is coffee. Need banana. Cannot risk waking puppy again. Make mental note - should I store bananas at my desk? Ooh - almonds! In the corner of my desk! Huzzah! Stomach saved! Take photo of Tupperware with almonds. (Slightly stage photo for comic effect for one person reading the blog - maybe three.)
9:05 a.m. Snack on almonds and realize they are the same ones that Elisa shipped back to me from California when I left them in her fridge almost exactly a year ago. Still good! Thanks Elisa!
9:08 a.m. Airdrop desk picture to laptop. Save. Upload to Wix gallery. Add to blog. Add caption.
9:13 a.m. Maybe I have ADHD. Maybe this is what all writers do? Maybe this is how all writers eat? Suddenly remember the Instagram account dedicated to weird things writers eat. Decide to search for it, but briefly, and only for the sake of the blog.
9:19 a.m. Stop searching Instagram. Did not find. Perhaps was on Facebook. No. Stop. Do not open Facebook. Am disciplined writer.
9:20 a.m. Phone notification. Family member has posted their Wordle.
9:21 a.m. Post my Wordle to family group text. There’s a haiku there! Realize that my nephew Cormac has written a better haiku than any poetry I've written in my entire adult gap year...perhaps my entire life. Pause to post because PRIDE FOR CORMAC > PERSONAL SHAME
9:22 a.m. Download haiku photo. Airdrop to laptop. Save. Rename. Upload to Wix gallery. Add to blog.
9:25 a.m. Stop eating almonds - very thirsty. Briefly glance at water bowl in dog crate. Nope. Not that thirsty.
9:26 a.m. Go back and edit everything I've written so far. Change title to "Writers Day II" when I remember that I wrote a blog last year about my writing "routine", called Writing Day!
9:55 a.m. I wonder if the Brewers are at home today? Pause to take picture of puppy in Brewers gear.
10:02 a.m. Go back and read Writing Day! Tear up a bit - reading about my day from a year ago. When I was struggling to calm a scrambled mind, find a place to write, find a topic to write about, find a way to make Mike proud and show him that I can be a writer.
I've never told anyone this:
The only mean thing Mike ever said to me was that I was not disciplined enough to be a writer.
Truly the only mean thing.
That's a miracle in 20+ years of marriage and dating. That he only ever said one mean thing.
He really skewered me with that one thing.
So now I'm crying and I'm not sure if I'll keep this in. The whole tone has changed, I realize.
But for me…this is writing. Silly writing or random journaling leads to a memory, leads to a story. My mood shifts. I follow where the shift takes me. I've learned to trust it.
10:12 a m. I'm not disparaging Mike. He was in deep physical pain when he said that. And to paint the full picture - at the time I was avoiding getting a real job, saying that I would write and get published instead. (Which I had been saying and not doing for about 15 years of our marriage.) So at the time he was right. I was not disciplined enough to be a writer.
And after a year off work, I'm barely disciplined enough to get out one blog post per week. And sometimes it's basically just a diary entry with photos of my puppy to keep people interested.
But it is 10:15 a.m. and I've been at my desk for over two hours. I had to quit my job and travel for a year and buy a puppy and do a lot of yard work before I sat here, resisted a beautiful 60 degree sunny day, and got down to writing. But I am here now. This is me writing.
I am a writer.
And I'm working on the discipline part. I really, truly am.
10:18 a.m. The puppy is awake. Wipe tears. In a second I'll close the laptop. Later I'll come back to this and decide whether to publish.
Do people like true things? Will people want this glimpse of my life? Will people think I'm a total whack job and abuser of puppies? Have I learned yet not to care what people think?
10:22 a.m. Puppy is sniffing around the hole on the dog bed and considering whether to chew it into a colossal crater. I'll have to go in a minute.
10:24 a.m. Take photo. Airdrop picture to laptop. Save. Rename. Upload to Wix gallery. Add to blog.
10:27 a.m. Answer a call from fellow Moms Demand Action volunteer. Feel the earth shift, unexpectedly, like an earthquake in New Jersey. Breathe deeply, and welcome in an amazing opportunity. A fork in the trail around the curve that I never saw coming, but also, somehow, have been preparing for since February 17, 2018. Will I say yes? Can I do both? Read next week's blog for breaking news!
(Well, look at that...I learned how to write a cliffhanger!)
Sojourn on!
Love this so much! And I hope it’s proof that people like true things. Keep writing the truth.
Not a fan of cliffhangers.