Through the open window I hear children laughing, water splashing, birds chirping and the sound of the wind in the trees. Inside, the gentle roar of the air conditioning tells me it's in the 80's. (Yeah, I'm a heat wussy; wanna' make something of it?)
What is it about summer that makes a person feel so lazy? Probably the heat, at least a little bit, but there must be something else. Chemically speaking, molecules move faster when they're hot, right? Shouldn't my molecules doing the polka make me want to run around and get things done? Shouldn't there be more energy instead of less? This is why I'm not a scientist.
I'm still working on that summer routine I've heard so much about (from my brain). I did finally get started on the BuNoWriMo on Monday, and I've made progress with my new WIP. I'd forgotten just how much I enjoyed writing that first draft. Yesterday was the only day I didn't get some writing time in, but that's because I slathered the kids in sunblock, stuffed the three-year old in a wagon and walked 2.6 miles to the closest library with my kiddos (the six-year old walked there and back without even one whine) then two miles back (because hubby happened to be on his way back from work at that time and picked us up a couple streets from home). Yes, writing is important, but spending time with the kids is, too. Plus, I got to read while the kids were busy at the library, so that's a win-win situation.
At home, it's easy to find reasons not to write. I need to pick up the house. I need to make these phone calls. I need to balance the checkbook. I need to write a blog entry (d'oh!). Hey, I wonder what's going on with my friends on Facebook. How about on my mom forum? Time to make lunch for the kids. Boy, I wish I could take a nap. Instead I will sit here and stare brainlessly at a wall and drool (just kidding, I was actually staring at the fireplace that last time).
My house is actually clean (gasp!), so I can't use that excuse. I sit here writing this blog instead of going down to my dungeon to write. Scorpio's waiting for me down there and she is an impatient sort who can also kick my booty, so I should really go down there to work on her story. She's in a tense situation in my WIP right now, so I'm sure she'd appreciate a little help (though she not-so-secretly enjoys the adrenaline it brings; she hates being bored).
Do you ever feel like if you stepped outside people would materialize out of nowhere, point and scream, "Procrastinator!"? (<---that was grammatically awkward and probably completely incorrect, but it says what I wanted it to so I'm leaving it). I do. Even if they didn't come out, that old lady from The Princess Bride would, and she's loud enough to make a good go of it.
Instead of curling up in the sunlight and taking a nap (which my kids would never let me do anyway), I'm going to give myself thirty minutes to finish anything on my list of procrastinations I can get to and then I'm heading downstairs. I'm pretty sure I hear Scorpio screaming down there, and boy is it profanity-laced.
What excuses are you finding to keep you from your writing during the lazy days of summer?
Happy Writing (or procrastinating)!