Good morning...
I've spent the last couple days organizing my office, tidying it up so I can focus on my writing without having to stop to find reference materials or supplies.
Knowing of my desire to write, my DH (we'll call him J.C.) encouraged me to follow my dream. Well, last night he asked me what I was doing, if I was procrastinating, when he walked in and discovered me attacking dust bunnies, rearranging my book shelves and laying out a healthy supply of colored pens, index cards, sharpies and a bowl full of wrapped chocolates.
At first, I wanted to snarl at him, offended, but then I gave serious thought to what he asked. Was I procrastinating? Was my desire to rearrange my office an attempt to delay actually starting my novel? Was I subconsciously afraid to sit down and actually put words down on the page? Did I fear rejection so much that I couldn't sit down and begin? The answer is, I don't know.
It's been more than 12 hours after he asked, and still, as I type this post, I can't help but wonder if it's true. Am I procrastinating? I guess we'll all discover that answer. Soon...
~*~Cassie~*~