I didn’t feel like writing yesterday. I was out and about all day, and it was extremely hot and humid, so when I came home the last thing I wanted to do was sit down and write. I procrastinated, I started telling myself that it was OK to skip a day, since I wasn’t feeling that great, and that I could make up for that day tomorrow.

I know that voice very well now. It’s the same little lizard brain voice that tells me that I shouldn’t go running today because it is too hot/too cold/too wet/too humid/I’m tired/I’m feeling so-so. It’s hard to resist that voice, since it’s easier to watch TV or waste time on the internet than it is to write or run.

When it comes to running, I get out the door by just lacing my shoes, and reminding myself that I’ve yet to regret going out on a run.

I’ve never regretted going out on a run.

So yesterday I plunked my sorry ass by the computer and started typing. When the words came out slowly and painfully, I took out a pen and paper and did a quick draft of the scene that I’m working on. And then I typed it.

When the scene came out as mediocre (since I was writing for the sake of writing, not for the sake of writing well), I went back and rewrote it. “Sorry little lizard brain. If you are going to act up, this is only going to take longer,” I told myself.

I finished my session target (a little over 500 words) yesterday, and while it took my twice as long as usual, I sure as hell don’t regret doing it.