One constant in my work habit is putting it off until the last possible minute. One day I would like to try an experiment where I don't give in to every possible distraction that comes along but right now I can't seem to write until I've handled, talked to, played with, used, flushed out, swept up, clipped back, laughed with every possible thing I can think of. Routine makes me feel uncomfortable (as does any form of work), so I somehow have to trick myself into thinking I don't have one. The second constant is waiting. First I put it off. Then I wait. I used to have to take the train to school every day from the time I was 8 years old all the way through high school (then, it wasn't every day but enough that I still had a 10-trip ticket) and I have 2 images when I think of the word wait: the first is of my grandmother in her blue car waiting for me with her two hands still on the steering wheel, the second is of me, waiting on the platform. I realized that when I wait I always know that something is going to be there, or that something is coming. It should be obvious but it's not. I think because the word waiting is so close to the word wasting, sometimes I can get tripped up. The third constant of my routine is the part where I battle myself. Sometimes it happens before I start, sometimes after I've finished, but this guy in my head is always there, rain or shine, hurricane or blizzard. He shows up whether he's driven a car or borrowed bus fare. Drunk, sober, angry, busy, happy or indifferent.
Hey everyone take a look I just fin-
Yeah. That guy.
Anyway, I was thinking about this when I was reading about the book Daily Rituals, by Mason Currey. (Yes, I found this when I was following Part 1 of my ritual). I love the guys, like Churchill and James Joyce, who wake up and lie in bed for an hour. They must not have kids.