DEFCON One Again?
This colorful little shaggy dog looks about as frantic as I feel.
It's a good thing he was already done and waiting.
I'm a bit frantic because I did it again.
I waited until the last minute.
Does that ever happen to you?
It seems like it's in my DNA.
When you're busy, some things have got to give.
Writing this week's newsletter is one of those things that slipped off my radar.
I wish it didn't, but it did.
I go through the week gathering ideas. When it doesn't matter, the ideas come fast and furious. I can't even beat them away with a flyswatter. I discover ridiculous, entertaining, and even funny things to write.
I could talk about an island full of mosquitos. They really will be here long after any nuclear winter. Mosquitos, freaking cockroaches and Twinkies.
Then, when it comes down to putting down my thoughts, the whole universe of ideas I've gathered all week scamper out of my head faster than I can down a shot of tequila.
The hollow space between my ears becomes a cavernous and palpable void. It's like someone polishes the inside of my brain so well the good ideas slide out and leave me with nothing.
There's nothing's left. Nada.
I know they're hiding in there someplace. I know the empty corners of my mind collect those ideas like dust bunnies and save them for later.
How do I coax those little beggars out? I've tried lots of things and made lots of promises to myself.
I promise myself I'll start writing all these ideas down, but I don't.
I promise myself I'll polish the blog post earlier in the week, but I don't.
I promise myself I'll stick to my schedule, but I don't.
Then come Thursday. Come Thursday, I'm scrambling like Fighter Command at DEFCON 1.
Nuclear Attack Imminent.
Batten down the hatches!
GET WORDS OUT OF HEAD!
So, I'm coming to you from DEFCON 1. Battle Stations in my brain.
Well, I know this is not what I planned to write.
The one thing that I've discovered is, to get it out, I've got to write. Those ideas just don't have any life until I write them down.
Good thing I love writing.
I'll keep on keeping on and...
Until next week, I wish you peace.
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