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the power of distraction, or the weakness of me

okay, so this should have been a thirty page morning, at least, thanks to my waking up at 3am, entirely awake. to not disturb my wife with my tossing and turnings, i came downstairs. instead of getting right to work, i started with email, of which i had a few, and then got wandering around with some of the hundreds (no kidding – the new camera has the mutli-shot function, definitely a bad idea for trigger-happy me) pictures and videos of my nephew’s recent football games which i need to clean up.

not long after, my wife came downstairs. she’d actually been awake since 2:30. so we had a fire going and she started working on a quilted blanket she’s finishing up for donation to local charity while i tried to organize myself. sounds pretty nice, actually, huh?

then i ruined it. i asked her to tell me about the book she’s been reading, which she’s really been enjoying. i was not a good husband, here. i spent the next hour harassing her about plot flaws and logical gaps i was seeing in what she described. who does this? what kind of arrogant jerk picks apart someone else’s enjoyment like that? it’s still amazing to me that she didn’t stab me in the arm with one of her needles. she’s a saint.

but after she went to work, what did i do? well, i caught up on writing for another hour, which was very good. i got another 3 pages done, which makes 5 from the 2 i did before my first class, yesterday. then i got distracted and wandered the net, solitaire, movie trailers, mindless junk, and suddenly it was 10:30 and i hadn’t even showered. what a schlub.

this did actually kick me into gear, albeit belatedly. in the last hour, i cranked out another 5 pages. thick about that: if i had kept that up most of the morning, i’d have managed 40 pages, instead of 10.

*sigh*

why do we do the things we know we shouldn’t, knowing full well we’ll regret them later?

sometimes it’s good to be reminded of my own failings.

right?

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