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by
jojochick

I got up at 6.30 this morning despite the fact I'm off work for the day (using up hols taking random Fridays & Mondays off). Plan was to spend the morning doing all those unpleasant financial jobs - like working out a budget for once, paying bills online, setting up d/debits and ascertaining whether the bank charges I've incurred are due out before or after pay day this month. The afternoon was/is (it's 14.36 now so the plan is still valid) put aside for writing the novel (that is far too grand a word for it as it is now). I put it in a drawer months ago.

Instead I have washed the bedding, made a veggie lasagne for tonight, tidied my desk and wasted time on here - adding inane comments to conversations no one is reading.

Why do I do this? Everytime I try to get myself sorted out this inertia comes over me and I just get anxious about all the things I'm not doing. Arrgh. Financially I'm a mess - not scarily so I have got a reasonable job, a roof over my head and all that - but I run my finaces in the most stupid way - paying charges because I 'forgot' to pay one bill and paid another twice and things like that. I'm a reasonably intelligent person, well read and quick to learn - but when it comes to money I'm the village idiot. I can't do what comes naturally to every hard up person in the country and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. Perhaps it's a condition - even now I'm not looking at my internet banking - head firmly in the sand - silly moo.

The 'novel' is the same - I have a good idea of where the plot is going - it's not planned out in detail or anything as sensible as that, but there is a vague beginning and an end - the middle bit will almost certainly shape up when I get off my arse and actually write. And that's the problem I'm not sitting in front of a blank page letting it happen like I know I should I'm sat here writng this shite. I need to get a grip, stop moaning and just bloody well do it. Arrgh again.