35-what to 50

Off the rails.

WELL I KNEW I’D HIT A ROADBLOCK EVENTUALLY. I just didn’t expect to hit it one week into this experiment.

Photo: Matt Kay/Shutterstock

So it turns out my discipline for sticking to a regular writing schedule is about as solid as my discipline for doing morning crunches and push-ups, which means my body of work is about as soft as my body is at present.

But I have an excuse — really I do. Better than the one I use for skipping the morning exercises.

Okay. Not much better. But then excuses are seldom any good.

I find work on the road by large measure harder than work at home. As previously shared, the volume of email (and by extension the volume of work) seems to expand when you turn on a 24/7 spigot of communication, receiving new missives before bed, in the middle of the night, all during breakfast, and sporadically through the travel destination work day. After a brief stop for dinner, a return to your computer greets the new day back home and the cycle continues anew.

This past week I discovered that squeezing another hour out of the day for personal reflection is challenging at best. There’s that and there’s also the fact that not much interesting happens in a typical work day unless you make it interesting, which probably requires another hour of thought and reflection. It is a goal to which I aspire and one for which I thought I could muster enough stamina, but clearly I need to instill as much discipline here as I do with my other new routines (these abs aren’t going to six-pack themselves either).

Of course I fell into the “but I can catch-up tomorrow” trap, which is a self-fulfilling vortex of inaction if there ever was one. You think finding two hours today was tough? I’d have an easier time folding a piece of paper in half eight times. Dull work days, too, exponentially increase in their dullness, making the search for the spark of inspiration even more challenging.

But I suppose the crux of this journey was to find something — anything — worth sharing every day, even if that anything really pushes the bounds of interest. So bear with me as I work through my disciplinary challenges.

I guess the bottom line is this: these posts aren’t all going to be winners. You better get used to disappointment over the next 300-whatever days.

OFFICE UPDATE: Yeah. Still homeless. Now I know what it feels like to be a sorority girl who thinks she knows what it feels like to be a refugee.

Possibly the most interesting part of my work week last week was the fact that I was actually working in a real, honest-to-God office for the first time in two months. I had almost forgot what it was like to have colleagues around me. If those colleagues were small, stuffed dolls:

This was described to me as looking like a toy morgue, which, I have to say, took the thrill of being in a real office down a few notches as I began to fear being haunted by the souls of our dear departed.

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