The brilliant thing about getting up at 6:15 is that at a quarter to 10 I have 2500 words written. I could probably have made a mad dash and gotten to 3K by 10, but I think my chapter ended and I know what the next scene is, and I have to catch the train into Cork at 10:30 and do errands, so I’m just going to go with 2500 for now and write more this afternoon when the sun is no longer shining merrily into my office.
I didn’t swim this morning. I’m letting myself off the hook on that because I expect to walk 6 or so miles today, and because I do have all these errands to run and it was either swim or write this morning, so I thought writing was more important. Maybe I’ll see if there’s adult swim on Saturdays.
thinks to do:
– get cat food
– shop
– sign up for spanish class
– laundry
– write more
The bad thing about waking up at six but then, um, not getting up and dozing off again and waking up at eight and being distracted by cat and e-mails and so on is that by ten I’ve, well, written nothing at all. Bugger it.
It’s Friday. Farmer’s market. Buy good things.
Six is all right. Seven is all right. It’s the routine you engage in after you wake that’s important, of course.
I’m doing 6 myself these days. No writing until later, but that’s because the routine is wake, feed the cats, go the Y, get endorphin run and ideas for writing, come home to shower and make tea for the wife, then head to work.
It’s really amazing howe we can acclimate ourselves.