One Hour – Turtle Steps – Sixty Minutes
3 pm: I’ve got to write for an hour. Sixty minutes. That’s ample.
3:01: Why don’t I just quickly floss my teeth? Flossing will reduce trips to the dentist.
3:07: I only need to write for an hour. I’m setting realistic goals here. Turtle Steps.
3:08: This could be a good time to put out the garbage. They collect on Thursdays and I wouldn’t want to oversleep and miss the collection truck.
3:15: I’ve GOT to write for an hour. This is why I’m living here. JUST DO IT.
3:16: I’m going to rustle up an iced coffee, in a tall glass. It’ll create positive associations with writing at home.
3:20: Just one final retort/one-liner/possible put-down on the chat forum. Who knows who’s posting what?
5:30: Look, woman, you have now GOT to write for sixty minutes. Strike while the fire is hot, FFS.
5:31: Let’s light some incense in the kitchen. It’ll be another way to associate writing with pleasant routines. Where’s that incense I bought from The Happy Store?
5:45: There’s no point, is there, in pretending you ever get a stitch of work done at home. You need to establish yourself in public spaces: library/café/wherever, set a timer, and get down to it.
5:46: Why don’t I write from 6 – 7 pm? If I get that right, I’ll reward myself with a walk at 7pm, once it’s cooler. I can’t spend all day in cafes, which have their own distractions.
6:01: There is a table on the verandah, my very own red table that accompanied me here, and I could drag it indoors, place the fan behind it, and work inside. The kitchen isn’t going to cut it.
6:20: I’m quickly going to write a piece for my blog. That is writing, isn’t it?