Get up in the dark.
Say goodbye to husband.
Walk the dog in the rain.
Sit down at computer and get to work.
So far today, my work has been in creating a schedule for myself that will (hopefully) insure that work actually gets done. Writing, that is. I'll admit, I'm wary of myself. I don't quite trust my promises...but this time it is different. This time I am no longer the "bread-winner" of this little 2 person family. This time I quit a job, largely, so that I would have more time to write. This time I expect more than hot-air from myself. I write. I write a lot. But, lately, I have not been writing with any specific purpose.
ok...ok...so maybe I'm scared (yes, actually, I am). I'm scared of all the same things that I have been for the past 2 1/2 years. Ug. I don't want to write that. I am so sick of hearing these thoughts that it is actually getting ridiculous. Fine. Let it be ridiculous. Because if it gets ridiculous enough...then I can set my fear down on the side of the road and forget about it. Goodbye. I've had enough of you, fear. I'm imagining myself on the side of a freeway. I'm wearing running shoes and everything is grey--the sky, the cars, the concrete, my clothes. (I think I've become a character in a children's book.) I set fear down in the gravel. I say: "Goodbye fear. I'm sick of you." And then I turn and walk away, down the side of the road. I love grey days and so I am happy to be walking away empty handed. The sky makes me want to take deep breaths. I'm wearing good shoes, fear has been neglected on the side of the freeway like so much trash (biodegradable, of course)... and I'm free to just go... I can go as far as I want...farther than ever before because I've just set down that nagging weight that's been holding me back for far too long.