The thing that stops us from writing is not a lack of imagination.

What stops us from writing is being interrupted.

That’s what the famous author–whose name I didn’t catch–said in the Facebook ad. It’s true, and it’s probably a very successful ad. I hope they do get a lot of people buying their course on how to write.

I was thinking about that snippet all day today. I was not writing. I knew I needed to. I really wanted to. I had this weekly wonder to write, but also I have a short story I’m working on that it really exciting.

But I really had to clean the house.

Really. It’s seriously filthy. I’ve been sick…still climbing out of that pit. And I haven’t had time to do the basics. I still took a three-hour nap today, and when I woke up I just had to do something about the floor.

And I knew exactly what I was doing. Not writing.

This reminds me of when I was studying in college, and I would feel compelled to clean my house during the last week of the semester–the week when all the papers were due.

My house was so clean that week.

I was interrupting myself.

I really want to finish that short story. It’s been FOREVER since I wrote one; I was beginning to think I didn’t know how.

But I’m excited about it, but I’m still not making time.

I will be so glad when I am over this flu. I want those nap hours for my own use.

And as I mop the floor I accuse myself. Those three hours back so I can squander them on un-creative activity?

Sigh. I’m not myself. Or maybe I am, just a particularly awful version.

I have to trust that I will have the time, find the time, make the time to get to the part I long for.

The floors do look very clean now. Maybe that will help me concentrate.

And maybe tomorrow I will not need to sleep so much.

It takes longer than I want it to, but I’m moving in the right direction. At least I hope so.

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