It’s 10:43PM. I have an article due by midnight and of course, I’m pushing it to the last minute. My mind is fried and one finger is broken and bandaged up. My inspiration on rewriting an article I wrote over two months ago is so far gone that it’s not even funny. The pressure to get this done and get it done well suck out any excitement I had about writing. It’s now work. My mood is rather blah like and I’m irked by every noise because, I tell myself, that’s really the reason the paragraph has not changed. I contemplate submitting a half ass piece of work, but know that that just won’t do – for them or myself.
The only thing I could think that would make me more of a writer at this moment would be if I had a cup of cold black coffee sitting on my desk.
The Chronicles of Girl at Play began in April 2001 as a way for me to chronicle my leaving a successful corporate position to become a self-employed writer.
