Out of the Doldrums

Today, I'm going to try something new.

For much of the summer, which is flitting away quite quickly now, I've been getting out of bed, wandering bleary-eyed to the coffee pot, and installing myself at the computer in an attempt to work on the article that ate Manhattan. In many ways, this has done me some good (particularly now that the house is mine! all mine!)--after all, I'm about 17 pages in now (insert dance of joy here). At the same time, this plan does little for my mental health. As the hours tick by (to the interior monologue of "stop surfing, start writing. Just open the document. you'll feel better if you get something done today. You don't even have to write something new--just edit. Editing is work too...), I get more and more strung out and, in a word, bummed that I'm not outside, doing something else. Getting an Icee, even, for god's sake. It's SUMMER, is it not?! It puts me in mind of the Phantom Tollbooth, where the protagonist drives, ever more slowly, through the Doldrums, where things get grayer by the minute. If this is all I remember for the summer, I'm going to curse myself all fall.

So, on this Sunday, I'm going to try something else. After another cup of coffee, I'm off to run some errands--return some clothing, pick up library books, and perhaps buy a bag for my upcoming trip. Let's see if morning movement can inspire some writing later, eh? (If not, I suppose it will simply be more bad movies this evening.)

Wish me luck!