….. So is that you? The Saturday sloth. Can I see you peeping out from beneath the duvet, eyes red-rimmed and clouded with sleep? And do you wake up with a terrible headache and a desire to cut it off at the neck?
We are creatures of habit. I hate the idea, but I suppose I fall into the same category. Our days are regulated by work, bus times, train times, food, shopping and small creatures both human and otherwise that yell to be fed at appropriate moments because – guess what? – they are creatures of habit too. And disturb those habits at your peril. The small creatures will yell louder and longer and your head may just decide to give you a kick or two to remind you it needs caffeine and food please, or it will go on strike.
Writing is a habit too. Or it will need to be if we are to get anything done. Scientists have at various times defined how long it takes to form a habit. Some say three times, some say a week, others a month. I’m not sure how long it takes to make a writing habit, but I do know that it’s pretty easy to unmake it. I’ve been away this week, travelling around various places in the north of England, and my writing habit has been butchered. You may have noticed from the erratic postings on my blog. The time available to do it shrank, the ideas demanded to long, the point at which I wanted to do it there was not WiFi signal or some other small nuisance was in the way. Morning pages have all but disappeared into the ether of a morning over which I have had little control.
Usually, I have the luxury of being my own boss. I gave up formal work several years ago and in theory, I do as I like. However, there is a day job still. I’m a textile artist. I paint silk and make felt, turning it into hats, scarves, baby boots and little flower corsages. This is fitted in around my writing to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon the circumstances. At this time of year the circumstances change: I have an exhibition in a little over a week and two craft fairs after that. Stocks are low and I’m going to have to work hard to produce enough to look as though it was worthwhile for anyone to come to the exhibition! The Eeek! factor.
So frustration is going to set in and the inevitable loss of habit. I like to sit at my computer at just after nine in the morning with a fruity tea, copious amounts of diet coke and my notebook and I prefer to emerge as and when the mood takes me. I realise that for many reading this, that is total luxury and self-indulgence. Well, I’m about to reap the fruits of that self-indulgence. I have to slog a bit to make up for time I should have been laying out and rolling wool. Wish me luck.
No turning into the Saturday Sloth for me at the moment!