Side Desk Mess

There is a corner of my desk that holds all my, "I'll deal with that later," paperwork, news items, and projects. The paper tower is threatening to tumble and potentially smother one of the cats, so I'm devoting a couple hours this morning to clearing it out. Ever wonder what's in a writer's "deal with later" pile? Here's a glimpse:

• Published articles that need to be entered on my website and in my tracking database
• Scribbles of ideas for new cat stories. Need to enter them in a Word document before Blair throws away the napkin they're scribbled on, thinking it's trash.
• Articles on how to be a better writer. I'm at a loss on what to do with these. They've got great information but if I file them away I'll never remember to refer to them. But sitting out isn't working either. Perhaps best to read and pray for a 10% retention rate.

• Publicity postcards for "Cup of Comfort for Cat Lovers." I have 2 stories in the book which is released in July. Need to decide if I'm going to try to wring any promo from it.

• Confirmation sheet for 20th high school reunion. Still debating...

The list goes on, but you get the idea. The goal is to be able to see desk by noon today. Cheers!

Short Attention Span

I think I'm beginning to understand why I don't get any work done. Let's look at a brief snippet of Dena's workday.

YESTERDAY, 2 PM:
I'm upstairs working on the computer. I need to get a quote from someone for an article I'm working on, so I head downstairs to get my cellphone, which I left in the living room. I grab the phone but notice Lucy sunbathing and stop to give her a little backrub. Kitty love complete, I walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I notice the dishwasher has run its cycle, so I quickly empty it. Then wipe off the counters.

Since I'm straightening anyway, I dip into the breakfast nook and put the placemats away, return the open magazines to the magazine rack, and wipe off the table. Which is then I notice our plant, Bobo, looking a little peaked. Back into the kitchen for water for Bobo, which makes me realize I haven't watered any of our plants lately and I might as well take care of that while I'm thinking of it.

Lucy has wandered into the kitchen by this time and is meowing at me, so we play a quick game of "chase the kibble" where I throw her food down the hall and she races after it. Since we're in the hall (where the washer/dryer is located), it occurs to me I haven't folded the towels I put in the dryer last night. That will only take 2 minutes.

Enough. I need to get some work done. I go upstairs and sit in front of my computer. And realize I need my cellphone--left downstairs--to make that call.

Here we go again...

Work - It's Not So Bad

So I was the teensiest bit stressed all weekend. The reason is that I have an assignment due July 2nd that I was feeling a little guilty for not having started work on before we left for the beach and which I felt I didn't have time to fool with upon our return, given the computer meltdown and another big assignment that was due a week earlier.

I told myself I'd start first thing Monday and then did every task in the world to avoid working on it. Part of the problem was that I wasn't real clear on what I was supposed to be writing about, exactly, and instead of figuring that out, I decided to avoid it.

Yesterday morning I MADE myself sit down to work on it. In fact, I cleared my week to do nothing but work on this one assignment.

Which, as it turns out, is completely unnecessary. I knocked out about 3/4 of it yesterday in under 5 hours. Turns out my dread and fear of what the work would involve was actually much worse than the work itself. Which is so often the case. And which you would think, after 20 years of knocking up against this "fear it/avoid it" trait, I would have mastered by now. Picturing what might happen is almost always 10x worse than the reality of any situation.

So I'll finish my project today, ship it off, and have the rest of the week to start fretting over next month's projects.

I am nothing if not consistent. =)

Mac Attack

Do the words on the page look different today? They should. They're being typed on a Mac. Yesterday afternoon Blair and I drove to Raleigh, mortgaged the cats college futures and came home with 2 apple laptops, a printer (only $25 after rebate), Time Capsule (wireless internet network), and a bunch of cables and crap I have no interest in learning about so long as Blair gets them to function properly.

I'm cautiously optimistic at this point. Things are different, although not terrible different, on the Mac and I'm trying to find my way around. My biggest heart clencher at the moment involves straightening my e-mail. My files transferred over, but I lost the folders they were in. So let's say I previously had a folder called "Dogs," and in it I had 5 different folders for 5 dog magazines, and then I had separate article folders under each of those. Now, all those messages are just listed in one big list that I have to go back and start categorizing. Ugh.

Blair and I are sitting upstairs in the green chairs, legs out on ottoman, laptop on each of our laps. Our conversation consists of me saying, "How do I..." and Blair grunting, "I'm working on it."

Love over a laptop is grand.