Yesterday I had a very low motivation day. I had work to do, a house to clean, and a target of getting almost 3,000 words down on my NaNoWriMo novel. I also had 8 quiet, peaceful hours available to me, with the kids doing after school care, and I had slept much better on Sunday night than my recent wont, so I was less pulled down than I've been. Yes, my targets were ambitious, but I had close to perfect conditions for achieving them. Everything was aligned, except for one tiny detail - motivation.
I struggled hard yesterday to get things done. I did still manage a respectable 2100 novel words, some paid work, a teleconference with my new client, and catching up on the clothes washing, but this was only achieved by constant self-trickery and self-flagellation. My resting state was ... resting. Skimming Twitter. Picking up a book to just read a few pages. Making endless cups of tea. Sitting in the garden with the dog, "just for a minute".
Today, the motivation has returned in spades, but right now the opportunity is severely limited, as the stonemasons are here installing the benchtops and splashbacks in my new kitchen - which is directly adjacent to my desk, with no wall between. The noise and strong odour mean that I can't really work or write, just exactly when I have rediscovered a bit of fire in my belly to do so.
The mind can be a very frustrating thing!
This is post 10 in NaBloPoMo. 10 down, 20 to go!
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