Oh, I hate to have to write this post. My check-in for this week is so much less than I'd planned on.
Ugh. Just ugh.
I wrote 3,400 words, which is fine but not nearly enough to pull me closer to the month's total. I am beginning to fear I won't make my goal, and that bugs the heck out of me.
There aren't enough hours in the day. That ever happen to you? I rise before the sun, and fall face-first into bed well after dark, and am busy every minute in between. Still, the hours are flying and the days are passing and my word count is stalled and I'm...frustrated. Yes, I'll admit it. I'm frustrated by the reality of not writing as much as I'd like.
Maybe when the gardens are tilled, the flower beds raked out and the trees planted I'll be able to put my hands on the keyboard. Until then, I'm tied to a rake and a shovel. But on this front, I've got a confession as well. I'm jazzed about being outside--without the snow blower! I love feeling the sun on my head, listening to the birds and plowing my fingers into the dark, rich soil.
This is one of those time/season points in life. I'm focusing on one joy but another is being sacrificed...for now. When it rains, I'll catch up on the word count. I'm pretty sure I won't make my goal, but that's all right. It's got to be, doesn't it?