Move [!] Get Out the Way. . .

A few evenings ago, our dissertation study group was enjoying a Greek dinner because of course we were procrastinating.  I had moussaka, by the way, which was more tangy than I prefer, the richness absent, but I never complain about moussaka.  Picking at his calamari, my friend next to me stated, "Sitting down and actually writing is the hardest part."  Across the table was a fresh, unopened copy of Writing Your Dissertation in Fifteen Minutes a Day.

I reflected on advice given to me by a researcher who I admired not for the content of her subjects but the sheer volume of work she could complete.  Her advice was to write something every day, even if it is something mundane, like the table of contents.

Sitting down and writing is indeed the hardest part.  I wonder where the prize-winning, 12 year old poet in me ran away to or the 18 year old college-bound senior who promised to dedicate her first book to her English teacher.  Brilliance beamed from my fingertips.

Anyway, it is almost bedtime and I have jogged, eaten, and wined.  The dishes are halfway down, the groceries halfway put away, and the dryer is humming.  That really should be the soundtrack for at least a solid hour of writing.  But I would rather watch my tea cool than write about hortatory legal provisions in a 30 year old law that I have written and presented on eleventy times.

There are also dishwasher unsafe dishes piling up in the sink, which needs to be cleaned.  Nothing ever makes it back where it is supposed in the cabinets.  The cat has taken up a new hobby of knocking her water bowl across the kitchen and they will need to be fed soon.  Tomorrow I will need to tend to the litter box.  There are boots strewn across the bedroom I just organized last weekend because today was the first cold day of autumn and who in the hell knows what to where when that shock happens.  At least the bathroom is still in relative tact.

I also feel obligated to call my mother, visit my grandparents, lift weights, finish reading the book I deigned to open for fun, watch a documentary, and brush up on my foreign language skills for field work.  Also, in the grocery bags not put away are ingredients for recipes I intend to master yesterday.

Christmas is approaching and I considered adding to my wish-list:  Housekeeper.  Then I thought doesn't everybody need one of those, so perhaps I would just pay one to come over just once to make my home look something out of "Good Housekeeping", a Mari Kondo type who wouldn't throw out all of my clothes and books.

Sitting down and writing is the hardest part.  I tried taking inspiration from Studyspo, but then I just look at my picturesque mug, Sharpie highlighters, Semikolon tabs, and Muji pen arrangement.

Sitting down and writing is the hardest part.  There is a chapter meeting this week, a dissertation meet-up this week, and a federal compliance training this week.  And work.  And co-authoring.

Sitting down and writing is the hardest part.  I remember how delightful it was to be young and selfish with my time.  But this is my time.  Writing may be the hardest part, something mastered with Finish Your Dissertation in Fifteen Minutes a Day or The Artist's Way.  The sun may disappear into the orange-blue ether sooner and dead leaves scuttle across the sidewalk, but I decided to smile momentarily because at least a feel inspired, a chill that is thawing.  It's been a long time coming.