Raising the Banner

I assure you my reasons for disappearing off the face of the Earth these past few weeks are good. Well, all right, they’re not. I’m a terrible liar. The fact of the matter is that my life has spiralled quite badly out of control recently. It’s always the same with me – if I haven’t got something occupying me directly, I have a tendency to meander. I’m not a morning person and a lack of motivation to get out of bed has a habit of putting paid to whole days. Since I lost my job at the end of April, the logical thing for me would be to just start living on shifted time and got to bed at 2 a.m. as I’m inclined to do anyway. Eight hours’ sleep gets me a ten o’clock start to the day and thus my life remains productive. Except my signing-on time for the dole is at twenty past nine, so I have to fight to keep myself in a normal time frame. No living by Greenland’s clocks for me.

I had a grand plan to try and keep myself in order. It involved getting up and spending three hours every day job-hunting and three hours of the afternoon working in my garden. Thus my rhythm of life would carry on as if I was still at work and I’d make a net gain on the travel time. Instead, my inability to get to bed (and sleep once I’m there) is making me sluggish in the mornings just like it did when I was at work, only this time I don’t have the threat of getting sacked motivating me to get up and dressed.

The knock-on effect this has on my writing is that I’m still fighting to get myself to bed at sensible hours, whether I sleep or not. The consequent reduced number of hours in my day (sometimes as few as eleven) means that I start doing the panic thing and get paralysed with indecision, making me procrastinate as I can’t bring myself to do any of the important things I need to do. The result of this has been that my novel, which is on a two-and-a-half thousand words per week schedule, is behind by about three thousand words. So my writing time has been spent on that rather than weekly blog posts, Doctor Who reviews, or a long-overdue continuation of Running from Nothing (which I migrated to WordPress then failed to produce new material for).

So I’m writing this now as a statement that I am reasserting my control over my life. Things are never exactly clockwork with me, but surely I can make the things I usually fit into my week happen. So once I’m done here, I’m going to bed in an attempt to be up at eight. And then the novel will get written, the bathroom will get cleaned, and jobs will get applied for. And then pigs will fly.

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~ by Scary Rob on 8 June, 2010.

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