So slack

I’ve been neglecting my poor LJ account for the past couple of weeks… That’s the problem with having no internet connection at home. That’s also the problem with trying to check LJ on your mobile because you’re obsessed with the internet and can’t possibly not be hooked up at home for much longer — the mobile won’t play nice when it comes to LJ. 
Here I am, feeling like a blogging slacker, but feeling pretty chuffed that I’ve managed to churn out 1,500 thesis words since yesterday. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: some days, achieving 1,500 thesis words is the equivalent of writing four short stories. For instance, yesterday I squeezed out a pitiful 375 thesis words. But when I sat down last night to work on a fun, magical story, I was ‘in the zone’ for hours and didn’t once think about (a) working on anything else; (b) checking my email, my LJ, or FB; (c) getting up to make a coffee, a pot of tea, get a drink of water, or all of the above in quick succession. Nope. I was all concentratey when it came to writing fiction.
This seems to be a trend with me. I always do a better job at the thing I want to do more, the inconvenient thing, the extra thing that isn’t the thing I’m supposed to be working on. When I was working full time and trying to get my PhD underway, I was a research machine. My bibliography went from nought to 15 pages in no time, and I was (sort of) looking forward to working on the thesis in my spare time. 4-5 years on, I have totally lost that lovin’ feeling when it comes to the albatross previously known as my thesis. For the past two years at least, it has occupied the heinous place that work used to, and writing specfic stories has taken primo position on the ‘Things I Want to Be Doing All the Time’ list.
Again, I say, So.
My goal(s)?

  2. Get some sort of employment (hopefully in academia, but let’s be realistic here, people.) Get a job that will pay me more than my scholarship currently does, so that I can eat, pay rent and
  3. Write specfic stories and/or novellas and/or novels in my non-working hours.*
  4. Write enough of the works mentioned in Point 3 to make Point 2 redundant. This is, obviously, a long-term goal.

But first, I’m going to enjoy my weekend, resting on my 1,500 word laurels until next week. We’re going to see Peter Goldsworthy’s Three Dog Night tonight with some wonderful (and generous) friends; tomorrow two of my old workmates are getting married, which is going to be a blast (because I’m a sucker who likes weddings. I don’t care how many people pooh-pooh them. I like going to weddings, critiquing the outfits, listening to the sickening vows, and being plied full of free food and booze); and Sunday night we are finally going to join the hordes of people who have seen The Watchmen, thanks to Dr Nick and the Pre-Raphaelite Ms Vaughan, who scored us some free passes.

*Of course, if I get said job in academia, there will need to be some boring academic publishing happening. I will happily deal with that once the albatross is dead.


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