I don’t ordinarily like to blow my own trumpet (just like I don’t ordinarily like to be the kind of person who says ‘blow my own trumpet’) but I’ve got to hand it to myself, over the last few years I’ve developed a pretty cool ability to switch my brain in and out of something I like to call ‘writing mode.’
And it happens almost instantaneously.
As soon as I read my last sentence I can get right back to the place I was in when I wrote it – and carry on writing as though there was no pause in the middle. It’s been an incredibly nifty little gift to have when I’ve been desperately trying to turn every spare second of the day into writing time. It’s meant I’ve been able to write paragraphs while I’ve been waiting for the kettle to boil, while I’ve been walking up the stairs, and even while I’ve been in the gym changing rooms (I have SO many notes saved on my iPhone because of this.)
But in a few weeks I won’t need to do this anymore. I’ll just be writing all day, every day – without any need to switch in and out of writing mode.
And because of that I’ve actually allowed myself to become – dare I say it – chilled. (Which is a really nice change from being uncontrollably neurotic over all the things I’m pushing myself to do.)
But now I’m scared I’m going the other way.
And I’ve become so chilled I’ve become really good at something I never wanted to be good at – procrastinating. (I don’t even like the word.)
For example, this was my Monday night…
And that wasn’t even the whole story.
The undocumented additions of this night include me making a hot chocolate (which was at first too hot, then too cold) finishing a packet of bourbons, rearranging the Scrabble fridge magnets, scrolling through hundreds of Snapchat stories, and then having an internal argument with myself about anyone who is dim-witted enough to watch Love Island.
All in all, three hours completely wasted.
The good news is I’ve turned it into a post – so I’m not too mad at myself.
The better news is I know I haven’t lost my writing switch. I can still write two pages of dialogue in the Post Office queue if I really need to.
The best news is I feel like I’ve gotten threeyears’ worth of procrastination out of my system. (And it honestly wasn’t that fun.) Which means in a few weeks – when I spend my days doing nothing but writing – I won’t need to pull silly antics like that. I’ll just be focused.
And if I’m not, I’ll just delete Snapchat. I don’t really need that bear filter in my life anyway.
(Except I do. I really, really do.)