Why is it that I sit down brimming over with good intentions but when I open up my laptop and stare at the neat rows of letters in front of me everything around me becomes immensely important – more so than the task at hand?
I get up and potter about, return to my mac and sit down, hands hoovering over keys, thoughts forming to only be led down an endless row of rabbit-holes:
The Saturday newspapers need to be read – oh and look a Sudoku yet to be solved – mmmh I think a cup of tea is needed – and what about my emails – oh and I did want to read that post/blog/online article. Every movement outside my window – even the violas bobbing in the breeze – catch my eyes and distract me.
And I so need to write, time is running out before I have to hand in my end of year assignments, but my mind has other ideas, one that seem to stray far away from my novel. But what to do?
Keep trying – I suppose!
You will never reach your destination if you stop to throw stones at every dog that barks.
Winston Churchill
jensinewall 