Finding a Voice
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
1000 word Tuesday
I didn't count the number of words I wrote--or, more accurately, rewrote--at the newspaper office today. My intended routine is to work Wednesday through Friday at the newspaper, with Mondays for housework and Newschool Arts responsibilities, and Tuesdays for my personal writing. Intended, because (a) this is a new plan for a new year, and (b) I've barely had time to settle into it. This week my co-worker, Linda, is in Mexico (I hope she's warmer than I was in California!), and I'm holding down the fort, which means working an extra day at the office this week. That day would be today. Tuesday.
Linda's absence also means that I will represent the paper at a meeting tomorrow evening. One more evening gone. I'm not complaining about the extra paid hours. I'm just acknowledging what's happening to my time this week.
So, words written at the newspaper do count for something. Except that I didn't actually count them up. Not an oops. Just a fact.
Jeffrey is editing video from a wedding he videographed. He'd like to watch one of the movies that arrived today from zip.ca, all foreign. I'd like to watch with him. Don't know if either of us will actually get to watch, but it's a thought, isn't it?
What I am going to do is write for 15 minutes and see how many words end up on the page--or screen, as is the case here.
I am also going to try to ignore my poor, wounded nose for 15 minutes. Poor and wounded after a weekend of warring with a cold or a flu that kept me bed-ridden and miserable in almost every physical way. That's something else that happened to my time this week. I had hoped to be in Weyburn with my cousin Marilou. Instead I was home, sick. But it was just over 48 hours of complete incapacitation. I did every natural thing I could think of to take that nasty bug by the hand and usher it through and out of my body as quickly as possible: liquids, lots of liquids, fortified by yummy things like glyconutrient powder, freeze-dried fruits and veggies, cayenne pepper, garlic capsules, vitamins & minerals, antioxidants, onion soup, Epsom salt baths, etc., etc. Seems to have worked. The worst is over. So far so good.
I don't think Jeffrey and I are going to watch a movie together. His eyes are red and bleary ...
... and I came back from a phone call. I know, a hardline approach to accomplishing a writing goal would say don't answer the phone, but it was my sister, I've been waiting to hear from her for a few days, and it's late in the evening, so it was either talk to her or put it off for who knows how many more days. So Jeff and I both talked to her on speaker phone, then he went to bed and I kept talking to her, and now I need to go to bed, too. I'm not going to make any apologies for not writing a full, countable 1000 words today. This was an unusual Tuesday as Tuesdays are supposed to go in my world. The point today is that along with everything else to be done, I made a point of writing something. 555 words. Half. Sometimes you just have to say, "Good enough."
And good night. 569.
Sleep tight. 571.
Don't let the bedbugs bite. 576.
If they do, take your shoe, 579,
And hit them 'til they're black and blue. 590.
Enough. 591.
Linda's absence also means that I will represent the paper at a meeting tomorrow evening. One more evening gone. I'm not complaining about the extra paid hours. I'm just acknowledging what's happening to my time this week.
So, words written at the newspaper do count for something. Except that I didn't actually count them up. Not an oops. Just a fact.
Jeffrey is editing video from a wedding he videographed. He'd like to watch one of the movies that arrived today from zip.ca, all foreign. I'd like to watch with him. Don't know if either of us will actually get to watch, but it's a thought, isn't it?
What I am going to do is write for 15 minutes and see how many words end up on the page--or screen, as is the case here.
I am also going to try to ignore my poor, wounded nose for 15 minutes. Poor and wounded after a weekend of warring with a cold or a flu that kept me bed-ridden and miserable in almost every physical way. That's something else that happened to my time this week. I had hoped to be in Weyburn with my cousin Marilou. Instead I was home, sick. But it was just over 48 hours of complete incapacitation. I did every natural thing I could think of to take that nasty bug by the hand and usher it through and out of my body as quickly as possible: liquids, lots of liquids, fortified by yummy things like glyconutrient powder, freeze-dried fruits and veggies, cayenne pepper, garlic capsules, vitamins & minerals, antioxidants, onion soup, Epsom salt baths, etc., etc. Seems to have worked. The worst is over. So far so good.
I don't think Jeffrey and I are going to watch a movie together. His eyes are red and bleary ...
... and I came back from a phone call. I know, a hardline approach to accomplishing a writing goal would say don't answer the phone, but it was my sister, I've been waiting to hear from her for a few days, and it's late in the evening, so it was either talk to her or put it off for who knows how many more days. So Jeff and I both talked to her on speaker phone, then he went to bed and I kept talking to her, and now I need to go to bed, too. I'm not going to make any apologies for not writing a full, countable 1000 words today. This was an unusual Tuesday as Tuesdays are supposed to go in my world. The point today is that along with everything else to be done, I made a point of writing something. 555 words. Half. Sometimes you just have to say, "Good enough."
And good night. 569.
Sleep tight. 571.
Don't let the bedbugs bite. 576.
If they do, take your shoe, 579,
And hit them 'til they're black and blue. 590.
Enough. 591.
posted by Colleen McCubbin at 10:24 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home