It only took one minor slip-up. It was nothing extraordinary, hardly even trivial, but a single seemingly insignificant snafu was enough. My schedule is discombobulated, and I am struggling to get it recalibrated. Why is it that the tiniest issue can send us spiraling out of control, and fixing things so you can return to normal entails herculean efforts? It shouldn’t be this difficult. My mind tells me a misstep should mean a slight detour, a jig and a jog, and bam, your back where you are supposed to be. Instead, I’m slogging through a quagmire. I can see my path, but it is not quite within my reach.
Patience. My old nemesis of wanting everything done yesterday is lounging in a hammock with one of those frou-frou umbrella drinks and he is laughing at me. He is enjoying this. His mirth sparks my anger. I grit my teeth, harden my resolve and start planning one thousand ways I can wipe the smirk off his face.
No matter the challenges and the obstacles blocking my way, I maintain the item at the top of my list as a non-negotiable. Yesterday I wrote 365 words.
Did you write yesterday?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer