where the writers are
The Writing Day

To quote Foghorn Leghorn, "Woof, I say, I say, woof."

I've come down with a bad infection of writingitis.  Have things to write but, wah, I don't wanna. Yesterday's writing day ended up, que sera, sera. I slept in till 8:30, shedding the vacation and driving. Then I cleaned up and lazed around, doing light editing, catching up on email. We did grocery shopping at 1 PM and after lunch, at 2:45, I headed out for walking, coffee and writing. As I neared my coffee shop, the thought came, hey, this is a holiday. Wonder if their hours are different?

They wuz. 

I met the manager as he was locking up and leaving. Trying to salvage something, I walked on to Starbucks. I hoped they wouldn't be too busy. 

They wuz.

So did a long walk home. Then continued editing the novel, writing the short story. Now, beginning today's writing treadmill - at 4 PM, long after my usual time, but part of my efforts to realign energy and segregate work and life. So here I sit, trying to get into the groove, realizing, I left my manuscript at home. I'd printed it out to read. So will I work on the short story, finish it, or edit. My energy is low so neither call. It was a long work day, busy from log on to log off. I'm put off at the idea of reading the ms from the computer but is that just me being unable to adjust to change? 

Yeah, you're right, finish the short story, then read the novel on the screen. Get another story out there, or at least get it out of my system.

Now, reading this, I see how badly I've strayed. If I'm agonna write, it's just like exercising. Take a break, it's hard restarting. Momentum dies. Plots and characters calcify. The ending wanders off for a beer. 

Okay, that helped buoyed my determination. That, plus a few sips of double shot Mexican Mocha, which is almost 3.5 shots, according to The Beanery, because they use bigger shots. 

Time to write like crazy.