Alice Buell Lawrence

I had those three days to write that I posted about last time. Everything I was going to get done. So much! There are so many chapters I want to write right now and I was really looking forward to it.

Outside of some editing, I got almost nothing done. I filled out job applications and generally was inefficient. This would normally put me in a state of despair, where there’s an imaginary clock ticking on all of this work I want to complete in my life. That guilt is as familiar of a friend as any.

I don’t feel that, though. Not at all.

I’m entirely relaxed here on a Wednesday evening, one where I haven’t typed a word in three days. Or, at least, a word on my writing projects. I didn’t get much done, and that’s actually okay. I’m sleeping soundly through the night, I’m getting through the job I loathe a little bit more easily, and I just overall feel lighter.

This weekend I’m going to go and test ride a motorcycle I’ve been wanting to buy. And I’ll enjoy that. Will I write any? I hope so, but if not, it will be okay.

It’s okay. I don’t know why I’m in this reasonably positive state, but I’ll take it. I’ve missed calm.