There are two things I’m good at.
2) Not Writing
Seriously. I am so awesome at not writing I could write a book about it. Which would be really freaking ironic, wouldn’t it?
Today I said I would start the new manuscript, writing at least 1k words, which is my minimum daily word count goal. There were other things I needed to do today too, but since writing is my actual job I needed to consider doing it.
And I would.
After I changed the bedsheets.
Also I needed to write a blog post.
And defrost a whole ham.
And coffee would be good.
I sat down with the coffee and the laptop, the sound of the washer tossing my bedding around in the background. I answered some emails, did some tweeting, realized I didn’t brush my teeth yet, and then my dad called.
A tree fell down and he needed another chainsaw handler to get the job done. The tree in question was in my grandpa’s yard, and if I didn’t go over there, Grandpa (who is 94) would pick up the extra chainsaw himself. Now, honestly, I think that would’ve worked out just fine (evidence to come), but I’m the kind of person who really enjoys physical labor so I helped chop up a tree in 90+ degrees.
We worked for a few hours, and finally Grandpa decided he was done watching and picked up a 40 pound maul and started splitting wood. Like, really effectively. We’re talking single swings. It was impressive.
I was sweaty and smelly and covered in chips and sawdust, but it was time to go home. And who can sit down and write when they smell bad? (Note: I still had not brushed my teeth). So since I was already a mess I decided to do some touch-up painting on the cupboards that we redid in the kitchen, and once I did that I decided since I had the ladder out I might as well spackle the holes in the ceiling from the old lighting.
And since I had the ladder out and it was obvious we were going to have to repaint the ceiling, I might as well take down all the crown molding and wash the ceiling to prep it for painting.