Gone and not ..well, maybe

I seem to remember that I have a blog here about every other month. I have had the worst time getting motivated to work. I have tried reading about it, classes on it, telling my therapist about it, forcing myself to go to a keyboard, nothing has worked. I don't know how I will ever get anywhere if I don't get started. I don't want Linda to be disappointed about me not working. She hasn't said anything. She may not have noticed. I do spend time in the office, but it's not productive. If anything, I've been using time in the office as an excuse not to work. It actually feels funny to type this. By the way, to anyone reading this "work" means "write", more or less. I just decided to call it that today, to see if giving it another name will crete a sense of urgency, even if it's just to fool my brain into starting something. It's much the same as the way that I set my clock a few minutes fast. Actually, I have an accomplis in that...Linda.

Here's how it works: I let Linda do the setting-ahead thing. I now know that the clock is wrong, and that it is fast. But, I make an effort not to find out how far ahead it is. Even though I have eventually come to the conclusion that the clock is about eight minutes fast, I don't know that it is exactly eight minutes fast, at least not for certain. Could be eight, could be nine. Could be seven and a half. I just don't really know. Therefore, when the alarm goes off in the morning, my mind knows that I have really been awakened a few minutes early, so there is no need to panic about getting up. After all, the clock is fast. However, in the back of my mind, the little voice reminds me that even though I have a safety cushion of time built in, I don't really know how much of a cushion I have. Could be eight. Could be nine. So the uncertainty stays with me in the wee hours of the morning, pushing me to get up. After all, it could be seven and a half. The gnawing at my brain won't subside. It keeps on and on, and eventually my concious mind takes over and gets me out of bed, if only to make that irritating bastard shut up. Works every time.

See, I knew there was some work in there somewhere.