So I have decided that I need to start getting up earlier. Sleeping until noon would be all well and good if I really felt like writing until two a.m., but as I never do, I think I'm going to have to try reverting to morning schedules. Morning does *not* mean six a.m. and will never mean six a.m. -- but it does, perhaps, mean eight a.m. If I could get in three good hours in the morning, then it would matter what I did the rest of the day -- I could write some more in the afternoon, or go out and about with a clear conscience.
Continuing with my mad desire to outline every single goal and track is with manic precision, I made a detailed day-by-day spreadsheet on which I can tally progress towards 15 separate goals. The spreadsheet automatically scores how well I did at the end of every week, which is pretty nifty, if a bit of overkill. I also started a monthly whiteboard, using a technique that Seinfeld supposedly uses -- make a big 'x' on your calendar every day that you write, and then see how long you can go without breaking the chain. This should be doable for me; I very rarely break the chain with the blog, after all. It's just a matter of getting into the right routine.
I took a break from my goal obsessions to join a gym this afternoon; while I didn't go to the gym consistently at work, at least it was there, and one consequence of my unemployment was losing gym access. I chose a gym that is conveniently five minutes away from my house and inconveniently expensive, in hopes that the combination of both factors will encourage me to go with some regularity. The facility is super nice, though, and since I can go whenever I want, I can optimize my schedule to avoid peak times (and yoga moms). That's another incentive to get up earlier -- if I get up, write in the morning, eat some lunch, and then go to the gym, I could get my writing done earlier in the day, go to the gym when most people aren't there, and still leave my late afternoons/evenings free for either writing or socializing. Perfect, right?
So after the gym, I went to Target, where I spent an inordinate amount of time stocking up on supplies. Then, I came home, reheated my vat of chili and made a grilled cheese sandwich to go with it, and watched last week's episode of "Top Chef: Just Desserts". While I think my chili turned out awesomely well, I'm kind of over it for now after eating it three nights in a row, so I froze the rest -- perhaps I'll make potato soup tomorrow, but we shall see. I wrapped up the night by reading part of a book -- CITY OF BONES, which is, as Katie will be dismayed to know, yet another young adult fantasy. The fact that I was able to stop in the middle so that I could go to bed at the reasonable hour of 1:30am says something either about the book or my willpower; I don't know the answer to that distinction myself. I love the story, but am not in love with the writing/voice -- but as yet another example of how important plot is, I'll finish it just to see how it turns out, even though I wish the writing was different.
And now, off to bed; I had intended to take Sunday off, but since I basically took today off, I'm kind of antsy to write tomorrow. Goodnight!
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