I'm right in the middle of NaNoWriMo, (National Novel Writing Month) and am exactly where I'm supposed to be. (finished day 12, yesterday, with 20,000 words) In order to get 50,000 words by the end of the month I use all my free time at night to write. Crazy thing is that I really like it. I don't think I've exposed myself to an obsession, but it's definitely something I might look forward to every year.
But, I'm procrastinating right now. I really need to be moving my plot along but my head is doing that deep-in-the-background pounding created by a migraine of insane proportions that can only be dulled, not eradicated, by a higher-than-recommended dosage of Advil floating though my veins. At this moment, the idea of creating a literary something from nothing creates a smidgen of apprehension which causes a slight increase in blood pressure resulting in an immediate increase in tempo of the drum corp in my head. I'm just waiting for the two cups of coffee to increase the size of my brain veins and hopefully in concert with that Advil, the magic will be wrought, bringing peace by firing said snare drums. Unfortunately, I have a sneaking suspicion that this is one of those headaches that will only be satisfied by my sacrifice of complete sensory deprivation via a night of sleep. Dang it!
I don't really have anything important to say, just wanted to stick my head out and holler, "Hey there!" I dream that one day I'll be this disciplined, enlightened blogger with a huge following, but then I remember that blogging isn't my hobby, it's just something I do. I've recently realized that to be great at something you really need to dedicate a significant portion of your free time to it. (I know, seems obvious. But I find that most things I don't actively think about, when I actually take the time to apply thought, I'm surprised by what pops out. For instance, my dad used to say "'Tough titty,' said the kitty when the milk went dry." instead of saying "Tough luck, buddy." I always knew it meant "That's just too bad" but I had heard it so much I never really thought about the exact words he used. When I was in college, yes college!, I actually thought about that little saying and realized that poor little kitten's mommy had a hardened up teat. I was flabbergasted! And of course my dad laughed his head off when I told him "I got it." But that's my point. I could have figured it out years ago, but I never actively applied thought. I just accepted it and moved on. I hope you understand now because I'm not going to explain it anymore for this might be my record for a parenthesized explanation.)
I am not a monogamous hobbier. There are too many fish in the sea, as it were. I barely have time for crocheting, bike riding, garden planning (I'm hoping to move into the execution phase of the plans any day now. Yep, any day), video gaming, movie watching, laborious recipe cooking, baking, internet puttering, reading. And I haven't even tried all the things I'm interested in yet. There's still belly-dancing, knitting, cheese-making, soap-making, sailing, motorcycle camping...the list keeps growing the longer I'm alive. And so I need to resign myself to the fact that I am, in reality, a gopher blogger. I pop up every once in a while and then go back to the other stuff I'm filling my life with.
It would be awesome to be one of those obsessive single-activity people, but alas! not me.
Okay, enough procrastinating. Back to my novel...
PS - I finally got to watch Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland...Loved it! The absolute randomness of Lewis Carroll married to the crazy, albeit oftentimes a little too dark for me, imagination of Burton worked perfectly.