What’s funny to me about Charlene’s 10-minute writing exercises is that I often only spend about 10, 15 minutes on any given post. [Yes, I know, that’s so very obvious to you.] It’s not that I don’t think about a subject at certain times prior to writing it. It’s that the act of writing is so minimal.
I know it’s partially due to my need for adrenaline. I need that rush of a pressing deadline. I always meet the deadlines, whether self-imposed or, when I was working, dictated by external events.
It’s also due to my training as a journalist in college. I always had to write stories quickly. There was no other choice. Get it right. Get it done. Preferably, in that order.
Nowadays what’s the pressure? The three little ones and their father. How many moments can I justify stealing away from them?
Most of my post writing gets done when Pete is in the shower, getting ready for the day, and the kids are still asleep. [There ain’t nothing much worse than a kid waking up during that 20-minute period to my freakin’ self, thank you very much. I hear someone’s pitter patter of feet and I am ticked. The hell with precious, “Good morning, beautiful mother” greetings from the youngest.]
I love doing this. I love the fact that I pay way more attention to my life and what surrounds me because I am chronicling it. I’d say 99% of my life is no big shakes. But that 1%? That’s what keeps me going here.
So go do something with your real life right now. That’s where I’m off to for the day, having just spent 12 minutes writing this. We’ve got dogs to walk, supplies to buy, and guests to host at a pool party here at noon. Later.