I have a long to-do list for this weekend, and yet, all I've managed to do this morning is hit a few PokeStops (I even beat two Team Rocket grunts before I realized there was a challenge for that, so I didn't get credit) and eat a ton of peanut M&Ms (breakfast of champions).
I consider myself a highly-motivated person. How else could I be successful at the day job and still find the energy to write after work? Except lately, I haven't been motivated to write. Or edit. Or even pretend to word outside of work.
Not much has been crossed off the long list I shared at the beginning of the month. I still need to finish editing my two short stories for the newsletter giveaway. I then need to figure out how to make the newsletter happen, and also how best to get the giveaway stories to you all. Then, I need to write a synopsis and cover letter for Breaking All the Rules, which has sat two more weeks on my desktop.
I haven't been idle. We cleaned up our yard for the fence, and we're still cutting down trees to protect our investment. I've been making progress on my social anxiety and fear of public speaking by continuing to expand involvement with Toastmasters. I've been CRAZY busy at work, implementing a new system while continuing to build content. I've done all this with the very real possibility I'm going blind looming over my head. (I have already scheduled doctor's appointments for next month to see what we can do.)
Every summer is busy, but this one seems even more so. Add in the scary political climate, and it's a wonder I get out of bed at all. If you're not worried about a fascist ruler using defense funds for whatever he wants and reinstating the death penalty for federal criminals, I wonder how you found me in the first place and why you're still here.
If you haven't already, I encourage you to read Night by Elie Wiesel. We're already Germany, 1933. Let's not become Germany, 1939 and beyond.