organized?

I think it's that time again (it happens about every three months) where I claim I'm going to get better about writing something creative (or at least "craft"y) daily, do it for a few days, then give up again.

(Yes, that's really all I have to say, but, as I've said before, at least it's something.)

so much for motivation ...

I've been having a hell of a time lately getting started on things (and finishing things). And, of course, once I sit down to do something, it's absolutely no problem (and I know this, thanks to decades of empirical proof). I'm determined to cross everything off my to-do list by Sunday at the latest. And that likely means I'm going to have to lock myself in my apartment until I'm forced to make things happen.

Sometimes, I wish computers hadn't been invented, and all I had was a typewriter. I think everything would be a lot easier.

furious motivation

I labeled this with the "procrastination" tag, but I'm not even sure what I'm procrastinating (or more accurately which THING I'm procrastinating). Yes, I've done some work in the past couple weeks to make headway on things that could publish, but no I have nothing concrete that I'm comfortable with to show for my efforts. I have so many simultaneous writing projects going at this point, many of which are completely on my own internal deadlines, because no one has actually "commissioned" (is that what you call it in 2011?) me to do them. However, I'd really like to finish something on my personal project list, and I'm pulling for myself this week. Maybe I'll be able to post a snippet if I can actually get off my ass ... or stay on my ass, as the case may be.

I need to get back to the writing opus-related proliferation of my past.

unfinished finishing

Well, today was a big-time failure on the whole promise to finish something front. My male BFF Rick is moving to a lovely new triplex further downtown, thus ending his 6-year reign on the Upper East Side, and he asked for some measuring/moving help to prepare for the movers tomorrow a.m. It was worth it. My reward was a delicious meat-filled dinner at BLT Prime in Gramercy. Prime rib, broccoli rabe, cheese-encrusted popovers, chicken liver, goat cheese salad with prosciutto, apple tart with cinnamon ice cream ... a meat-lover's dream, truly.

It proved my theory that heaven is made of meat, or at the very least, meat flavored.

I guess I can technically say, "I finished a steak today."

robot unicorn freestyle

I'm pretty sure I've been playing this game way too frequently on my iPhone lately in order to procrastinate doing actual work (and in order to lull myself to sleep). Firstly, even if it is ironic or making fun of unicorns, it has actually achieved being the ideal game for little girls that at any point were in love with unicorns. An Erasure soundtrack? A unicorn that flies and turns into rainbows? Dolphins? Purple magic? It really does have it all.

Secondly, it affected my dreams last night (in a slightly non-obvious way). I got stuck a few blocks from the house where I grew up, wearing nothing but the t-shirt I was sleeping in in real life. I was trying to get home, when I got stuck traipsing through the local pool, which I was of course able to jump over and through (like the unicorn) without it affecting my journey.

I frequently have dreams that I am back training as a serious swimmer, usually involving me having to swim the mile at a huge meet, or some other ridiculously long event or string of events (sometimes I'm just at a 3-day USS Meet) after not having swam in years. Leave it to me to combine swimming with unicorns.