This is the second week in a row I’ve been late for my own weekly writing. Large-scale projects have never been for me. Every long project I’ve gotten was done in one major day. Whether that day was extremely early or at the last procrastination-filled second depended on how much I was interested in it. Most often I’d do a reasonable amount early on, then never touch it again until it was time to panic. I’d be interested, that first time — but then the interest was gone.
Writing blogs every week might be the best I ever worked at anything, and now I’m failing at that too.
The sad thing is, it only took one week. One off, overwhelmed week where it just didn’t happen. Somehow I wasn’t mentally able to find the 45 minutes I needed to throw out a puff piece and at least chalk it up as an attempt.
In fact, it’s been 24 hours since I wrote the last paragraph, which is about 24 hours passed my self-imposed deadline.
And six days since I wrote that.
I wish I was better with habits. They say it only takes 4–6 weeks of repetition to form a habit. I can’t tell you if I’m missing that window, or if I’m just habit resistant. I’m easily overloaded, easily pushed away when presented with half an ounce of stress. I want to focus on what caused the stress. Everything else goes promptly out the window.
I hate how much easier it is to break a habit than to keep it. I only lost one week of writing, and yet here I am, barely scraping my way out of making it a second one. I don’t like to concentrate — somehow I was better at that as a child than I find myself being now. When all the choices are mine, it appears that I choose distraction.
Will that ever improve? I don’t know. I thought I had this habit ingrained in me by now. Maybe I’m failing because it’s a weekly habit, not a daily one. Maybe I’ll be better for hitting this bump yet carrying on.
But I gotta say, writing this has not been easy.