I have a jumble of things on my mind right now, and most of them include the following: I've done nothing the past few days.
Last week, I was on a legitimate roll. I reached 30 k in The Hollow Men and read four books (yup, four of them). And it was wonderful. Then Tuesday hit, and Wednesday, and I didn't even write this blog post until the last second. Want to know what I've been doing the last 48-hours?
I watched World War Z about 10 times on repeat and went to the gym once. It would have been twice (I try to go once a day, sue me), but the ID card reader that opens the door has decided that it hates me and won't let me in, which inspired me to do 40 crunches on my bedroom floor last night.
The only other thing I've done besides work is play on my new tablet (it's so shiny and gorgeous and has a keyboard that literally magnetizes to the case for easy carrying. Snazzy, right?).
On said new tablet, I have Microsoft Word, the perfect thing to have when you're 1) a writer, and 2) need to practice using a keyboard that's about half the size as the one you usually use. So I started writing a new idea that I got from World War Z (somehow, it's not even about zombies. Go figure, right?).
And 6.5 thousand words later, I'm calling it "nothing" and I have no clue what I'm doing. To be honest, I both feel like I've wasted the last 48-hours of my life and done the funnest thing ever: I'm experimenting.
There's that "rule" that says not to break the rules until you master them. I call (excuse the expletive) bullsh*t. Because everybody needs to break the rules in order to figure out where they fit and where their style is. So half of that "nothing" project that's not about zombies is basically me just tapping at the keys and hoping it makes sense, and I'm fairly certain that most of it doesn't.
It feels absolutely fantastic. Sometimes, you really just need to get the random writing ideas you have out of your system. Keep them, of course, but once you're done you tend to be a bit refreshed and can go back to doing "something." My something happens to be reading one book after another, getting my blog posts done on time (I'm only about an hour late, guys; that's still impressive in my book), and writing The Hollow Men.
Wait, one more thing: I'm also trying not to melt because it's about 100 degrees F in Las Cruces right now and apparently my work knows absolutely nothing about this wonderful thing called air conditioning. That counts as "something," too, right?
For the most part, nothing feels kind of good sometimes, so long as you actually have time to spare. I wouldn't be caught dead doing "nothing" in the middle of the semester. Heck, I don't even get to go to bed as early as 10 pm in the middle of the semester.
Even if my "nothing" project that's not about zombies doesn't go anywhere, and I cringe just thinking about it, I have no regrets.
P.S.: the air conditioning literally just came on. Happiest person alive, right here