I’ll usually be the first one to tell you that I don’t care if I get rained on, but if you’ve ever been around me during bad weather, you’d think I take this idea to some level of insanity. I never carry an umbrella unless the family is with me, and it’s for their sake, not mine. The moment I realize that a storm is imminent, I accept the fact that I’m going to look and feel like a drowned Louisianian rat and get on with the day.
That said, I’m also very aware of my mortality when a thunderstorm rolls over. This is due to an experience gained several years ago, on the job and in fact, on the very road I’m stuck on at the moment. I was parked by a utility pole during a thunderstorm and forgot the very basic of storm-survival knowledge: utility poles with transformers are prime targets when there’s lightning. A bolt struck the transformers and exploded, my world went white for a couple seconds, and I was picking myself up off the ground a few seconds after that.
Since then, I’ve made a policy that I can deliver the mail in any weather, but if the lightning is close by, I’m going to sit down and wait for about 10 minutes and let the worst pass me. Thus, we have today’s little shared moment with a mailman.
So, while Zeus and Thor have their airborne spat, I’m sitting here going over my self-motivations to write, or rather berating myself for not doing as much writing as I’d like in several months. I think I’ve averaged about 200 words in a day, when it can happen at all. It’s understandable, really. The career is time and energy intensive, and my family has the ultimate priority in my mind. If given the choice between sitting at my tablet as soon as I get home and talking to the children, I’ll usually pick the latter. That the choice is presented to me when I sit down at my desk, in front of my tablet, is irrelevant and you can’t say otherwise.
I know what I need to do. I need to go back to my old disciplinary methods. Set up reminders to write when the kids go to bed. Have the coffee pot ready to brew when story-time is about to start. Stay away from the beer until I’ve made my goal for the day.
Alas, these things have been forgotten or ignored in the last three months. The mail volume increased, the kids discovered 8PM and decided it was a better time to go to bed, and I really like having a beer when I get home, for all I know it’s going to knock me out at 10 and I’ll wake up in my chair, Microsoft Word open and blank, and my knees hurting.
This is not a note of despairing my writing time, but rather my inner monologue getting an audience. Yes, I can do the things to get back into the swing of things. Also yes, I’m human and do have limits, even though I didn’t know them in my 20’s.
As the “heavy rain” shuffles off and thunder rolls away, I’m getting my satchel and heading out into the wet route. Just another few miles. Then I’ll get home, see to my evening chores, brew coffee, and write.
Just keep this in mind: ultimately we are the ones who will get our stories out, and it does take self-discipline to do so. Don’t slack off too much or you’ll be annoyed at yourself. More annoyed, anyway.
Y’all stay safe out there.
Swift's Corner 