Not Working

Don't feel like fighting. Don't feel like being a warrior. I'm tired and sick and so is G. I'm letting the dishes pile up because isn't it enough that I am feeding and tending and entertaining and disciplining a couple of little kids? And I'm sick. Boo hoo hoo. I feel sorry for myself. There's no day off for mommy. I'm used to it, but that doesn't mean I can't have a moment of whining.

Besides not doing the dishes, I haven't even looked at my novel. I could have a million excuses for why I'm not. And they're good excuses, babies, sickness, blah blah... but what it comes down to is I am not doing what I say I am set on doing. Truth is, I'm just not all that set on it.

Commitment! (sung to the tune of Tradition! from Fiddler on the Roof)

When am I going to take that step and truly commit to getting this work done? Right now, I'm wrapped up in feeling sorry for my tired self and my aching back and pounding head and sink full of dishes. I'm commited to feeling miserable.

Well, if I were a good creative person and spiritual warrior, by the end of this post I would be wonderfully recommitted to revising my novel.... but you wanna know the truth? I aint gonna do no revising tonight. I'm going to stop pretending that I'm going to work and choose not to. A positive choice.

And I'm not going to feel guilty.