Some days I think I’ve caught that sickness where you’re in the midst of doing something singularly important, something that has the potential to change your whole entire life, and you know it, and we all know it, and there’s no one who doesn’t know it, but for some reason you want to curl up on the couch with the latest monster issue of Vogue, or turn on the monster TV. Or, wait, maybe that’s just me.
My own ability to sabotage myself with doubt and excuses and distractions (look! I have a blog for no reason!) has been well-honed over the years. It’s as familiar to me now as my mom’s homemade macaroni and cheese.
Fact is, I’m making progress with the novel. Progress in pages, undeniable pages. There are just a bunch of chapters planned, and I tend to write very long and then cut later, so… I might have a lot of pages, but I still have a lot of chapters still to do.
So I will not let myself catch the can’ts right now. I can’t!
It’s like getting those first hints you’re catching a cold and slurping those vitamin-C fizzy drinks to keep it at bay. Here I am with the metaphorical sniffles, a full-on metaphorical sore throat. But I can keep it back, I can I can I can.
Oh look, I’ve become the Little Engine That Could. I always did love that story as a little kid. You can if you think you can, so goes the Little Engine philosophy. And I have to start thinking I can so I will.