Why can’t I write when I want to?
Why do I keep seeing flaws in my story even before I get a word on the page?
Why did I take the brush and destroy a reasonably good painting, just because it annoyed me?
Why do I want to cook loads of things at a time – enough for the next four days, when all I need is just one meal for right now?
Why do I lie in bed when I have loads of things to do, staying there until it is just too late to get even one thing done, then moaning at myself all day?
Why do I not go to bed when I’m tired, and hang on until I
a) can hardly get upstairs or
b)get new life and sit up till 2am watching something stupid on TV?
Why will I not do my homework for meetings etc when I have time instead of waiting until the last minute?
I am a mystery to me!
moaning to yourself for the rest of the day - surely that still counts as something done. Ah sure you're a mystery to us all DQ
ReplyDeleteYou like to live on the edge DramaQueen... life would be too dull if you did what you were meant to do...
ReplyDeleteDramaQueen... can't send you any emails! There's a problem somewhere - call Ryan!!
ReplyDeleteOh, its working now, but i've lost the brilliant mail I was trying to send you... :(
ReplyDelete