
My struggle with formatting continues. I’m just going to say it’s a PEBCAK error, and we’ll leave it at that.
The goal of FINALLY squishing out the first book (FINALLY!!!) is approaching, but self-sabotage lurks around every corner. On the plus side, I know for a fact it isn’t some grand conspiracy among my supposed friends and family on behalf of Big Book; on the other hand, it would be nice to be able to blame others for my shortcomings.
Distractions abound: I don’t need to organize my shed, I want to organize my shed.
And now I’m back from puttering around on that.
I don’t need to spend more than 1 hour in the yard a few times a week, but I will do it, bitching about all the work the whole time.
I’m resisting going out to collect more abandoned rocks off the side of a road that I noticed the other day, at least until this posting is done.
I don’t need to work on a different project like sewing or string or painting or whatever. They will be there when I finish pushing out the first manuscript. I can use a new project like spinning a couple skeins of wool yarn as a reward.
Squirrel Brain doesn’t not yet completely understand Object Permanency, and is very much invested in Instant Gratification.
Oy. Let’s not even get started on Youtube.
Writing is not instant gratification. Publishing is not instant gratification.
Seeing someone smile when they read your work is instant gratification.
I keep telling myself that, but Squireel Brain is now thinking I should really organize my sewing area just a little bit better, and maybe get some new batteries for my loft lights, and I still have to journal March’s business progress, and
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