Some Days

On a good day, there's not much difference between what I want to say or do, and what I actually say or do.

Some days are easier than others, however.

Some days, I wake up jazzed to write, and I end up instead on my hands and knees paving my own road to hell -- oooh -- look -- a good intention fits here...and here...and here...and here....

Sigh.

Some days I wake up jazzed to write, and instead spend a lot of time thinking about writing but procrastinating the actual writing until I fall into my bed and dream of all the words unwritten.

Depressing.

Some days I wake up jazzed to write and instead of writing what I planned, I allow myself to get dragged off into that peculiar type of procrastination which results in something getting written, just not what I planned. As if I were possessed by some demonic anti-muse who will not ever let me forget that while I seem to have been productive, I in fact just fooled myself into avoiding what needed to get done.

Really depressing.

And some days I wake jazzed to write and manage, through nothing short of a miracle to actually get done some or all of what I had planned, without self-criticizing, or self-editing myself into stopping, and the words are there, where they always are, on the other side of the keyboard, or transmogrified from inside a pen through nothing more than my will.

That's a good damn day.

Here's hoping 2010 has a lot of those good damn days for all of us.

The Final Snippet: "You can always hope for the West." (overheard in a meeting, much to my delight, where the speaker intended to say 'You can always hope for the best." I love this sentiment and vow to use it in every meeting possible until the end of time.)