I Don’t Want To

Ok. Ten minutes. I totally do not feel like writing right now. I do not think anything much will come out of me onto the page in these 10 minutes but I will write it and I will post it. The writing it and the posting it are important. That is the space in which I feel accomplishment. The not hiding from writing, the not hiding my writing from others. Even if no one sees. And it doesn’t matter if anyone sees. It is not on a shelf, caught in the pages of a notebook. It is a deadline each day. Write, submit, publish. It is a step toward submitting the writing to others to publish.

And perhaps I will look back on this and say, “What trash!” (In fact I would like to say that right now as I copy this to Medium!) But if I did not write this trash, I would not get to the other side, the good stuff. The stuff that is not going to come out in these 10 minutes. I want the good stuff.

I totally can’t wait for 10 minutes to be over! I can’t! It is agony! I do not want to write more, but I will. Damn this timer. I will fill this time until time is up. God I hate this. How can ten minutes be such torture? Well, it is. Why don’t I have anything else to write? Actually I do. I just don’t want to say it. It is the stuff I would rather be stuck in the pages of the notebook, on the shelf because it is even more whiny and complainy than what I am writing now. I so hate these times of writing crap and trying to write through it. My God! Will this never end? Please, please, please, please, please…pretty please…with sugar on top. Make it stop. It is nearly over. 25 seconds left, and my kids request my presence, actually, demand my attention this whole time and I am just writing for 10 damn minutes!

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