Welcome to Exhibit A on why I need a blog to keep me on track. Then again, I clearly need a swift poke in the rump to keep me on top of the blog. Sorry all! What can I say. The week just took over.
Where to begin?
Ah, yes. Late last Friday night I somewhat deliriously, and jubilantly, wrote of my great progress. Almost two whole chapters. And then what followed? Nuthin. Here's a breakdown of my less than productive writing week.
Saturday was spent socializing, and movie going. Went to a Pampered Chef party at noon where I filled cream puffs to an explosive capacity, and then off to the hubby's aunt's b-day party where more feasting ensued. In case you don't know, writing in a mad flurry and then crashing late at night leaves one feeling something the next day akin to a hang-over, minus the icky mouth and churning stomach. Or the desire to toss out every stain of booze in your house. No, it's like a hangover in the way you keep thinking that eating everything in sight will make you feel better. "Why, yes, I think you're right. Those onion rings are just the thing to make me feel ok." Also, I felt that nagging sense of willingness to nap anywhere I might not be noticed.
Still, I'm a trooper, which is when instead of going home when we left the party, I thought going to a movie was a better idea. The early show was sold out, so we opted for the late show. After all, there's lots to do in a mall for two hours. 10 minutes after that statement we ran into my parents, convinced them to come to the movie as well, and spent the better part of two hours bored out of our skulls. A movie was really no better. "No Strings Attached", a supposed romantic comedy, but with all the sexual inuendo, I found myself whispering to hubby not too long after "Why am I sitting next to my dad?!" Still, not my most uncomfortable movie watching experience with a family member. There's a toss up between Monster's Ball with my Nan, and Basic Instinct with Dad. Bad moments in history best forgotten. If only...
So with Saturday a wash, Sunday was bound to be better. But it wasn't. We spent the day curled up on the sofa watching episode after episode of Ballykissangel. I hate spoilers, so I won't tell you what had me sobbing, but it was a bad afternoon mid-way through.
Monday, sick. Didn't go to work, didn't budge from bed unless I had to.
Tuesday, gym. Started Results 3-2-1, which is three minutes of strength, 2 minutes of cardio and 1 minute of abs on repeat until the body wants to kill me.
Wednesday, too sore to move.
Thursday, ugh. Let's not even go there.
And now, Friday. I'm writing this, and hubby is getting cleaned up so we can go hang out with friends.
But don't despair. I have a goal for tomorrow. And so far, when I make a promise here, it gets kept. It's when I avoid blogging, ergo avoid setting goals that you expect me to keep, that things go by the way side.
Tomorrow's goal. A chapter. That's right. Another full chapter. Because if I can write one in a night, imagine what I can do with an entire Saturday. Stay tuned friends. Let's see if I pull it off.
Where to begin?
Ah, yes. Late last Friday night I somewhat deliriously, and jubilantly, wrote of my great progress. Almost two whole chapters. And then what followed? Nuthin. Here's a breakdown of my less than productive writing week.
Saturday was spent socializing, and movie going. Went to a Pampered Chef party at noon where I filled cream puffs to an explosive capacity, and then off to the hubby's aunt's b-day party where more feasting ensued. In case you don't know, writing in a mad flurry and then crashing late at night leaves one feeling something the next day akin to a hang-over, minus the icky mouth and churning stomach. Or the desire to toss out every stain of booze in your house. No, it's like a hangover in the way you keep thinking that eating everything in sight will make you feel better. "Why, yes, I think you're right. Those onion rings are just the thing to make me feel ok." Also, I felt that nagging sense of willingness to nap anywhere I might not be noticed.
Still, I'm a trooper, which is when instead of going home when we left the party, I thought going to a movie was a better idea. The early show was sold out, so we opted for the late show. After all, there's lots to do in a mall for two hours. 10 minutes after that statement we ran into my parents, convinced them to come to the movie as well, and spent the better part of two hours bored out of our skulls. A movie was really no better. "No Strings Attached", a supposed romantic comedy, but with all the sexual inuendo, I found myself whispering to hubby not too long after "Why am I sitting next to my dad?!" Still, not my most uncomfortable movie watching experience with a family member. There's a toss up between Monster's Ball with my Nan, and Basic Instinct with Dad. Bad moments in history best forgotten. If only...
So with Saturday a wash, Sunday was bound to be better. But it wasn't. We spent the day curled up on the sofa watching episode after episode of Ballykissangel. I hate spoilers, so I won't tell you what had me sobbing, but it was a bad afternoon mid-way through.
Monday, sick. Didn't go to work, didn't budge from bed unless I had to.
Tuesday, gym. Started Results 3-2-1, which is three minutes of strength, 2 minutes of cardio and 1 minute of abs on repeat until the body wants to kill me.
Wednesday, too sore to move.
Thursday, ugh. Let's not even go there.
And now, Friday. I'm writing this, and hubby is getting cleaned up so we can go hang out with friends.
But don't despair. I have a goal for tomorrow. And so far, when I make a promise here, it gets kept. It's when I avoid blogging, ergo avoid setting goals that you expect me to keep, that things go by the way side.
Tomorrow's goal. A chapter. That's right. Another full chapter. Because if I can write one in a night, imagine what I can do with an entire Saturday. Stay tuned friends. Let's see if I pull it off.