…or “I seem to have been hovering at these crossroads for a very long time.”
There’s an argument that modern life or post-historical life exists in a state of suspension, of things-perpetually-on-the-verge-of-becoming-concrete. That is to say, we’ve spent all year almost-selling our house. I’ve spent nearly two years almost-getting another job. We’ve spent seven years nearly-getting a regular babysitter. Or not-quite-sorting out our sex-life. Or finances. Or finishing this damned draft 3. Or. Or. Or.
Endless deferral and not the fun kind Sting gets up to.
Added to that, I’m tired and my office door won’t shut properly. And the mild depression I’ve wrestled with constantly for as long as I can remember is gaining the upper hand at the moment and that will not do.
So here are three things I’m doing in the next three days to address this:
- Leaving work on time and going to yoga in five hours
- Going home after that to finish another job application which I will fearlessly commit to
- Devoting Wednesday’s train journeys to powering through three thousand words of draft 3
- Find a critical reader, one on the same path and at the same stage with their WIP that I am
- Have an unbroken nights sleep with no nightmares about my job
- Get back into a daily yoga minimum of at least the sun salutations and maybe even a couple of the stretches I hate most (one day, Lotus sitting position, your ass will be mine)
- Not shout at the children once. No matter what the provocation. They’re provoking me because I’m giving them cause to
- Establish a ‘date night’
- Write 1,000 words EVERY DAY from Wednesday onwards (for tonight and tomorrow, see next three days, #2