When her alarm went off, she hit snooze. The second time it went off, she turned it off and grabbed her cell phone. She laid in bedding reading emails until she heard her daughter getting ready for work. She glared at the clock, realizing for the first time just how late she was running.
“Crap,” she muttered.
She rolled out of bed, barely landing on her feet, and grabbed a sweater. She pulled it over her sleep tank and ran into the bathroom. She filled her mouth with mouthwash and swished as she shoved deodorant up her shirt. She spit it out just before running a brush through her hair. She ran to the closet for a pair of jeans and pulled them on while stepping into a pair of ankle boots. She emptied the morning packet of pills into her palm and ran downstairs to the kitchen. She grabbed an old bagel and a juice box, draining the fluid to take the pills and then shoving the food in her mouth. She chewed while she hurriedly used the bathroom and washed her hands before reaching for the portion that was still dangling from her mouth. She grabbed her car keys in one hand and the half-eaten breakfast in the other. 4 minutes and 22 seconds. A new record.
This is me every morning. I know, I know. Why don’t I just get up when the alarm sounds? Why do I get sucked into the cell phone and lose track of time? Honestly, it’s because I love the comfort of being curled up under my blankets, and the stress of starting the day feels better left ignored for just five more minutes.
I have this problem with writing, too. When I get stuck, I go round and round with the words I have already written, enjoying what I have created with no desire to move forward. Fear keeps me in that place. Fear of the unknown. Fear of making a mistake. Fear of what happened last week and months of work deemed “not good enough.”
I have a plan, though. There is a card hanging above my desk. (Perhaps I should make a copy and attach it to my phone as well.) It says, “Doing something is better than doing nothing.” It may seem like common sense, but the reality is, we often put off doing things out of fear of not doing it right.
So with the help of my notecard, my first draft, my edits, my writing friends, and this newsletter, I’m committing to just ten minutes of writing per day. If it runs over and I get more done, excellent. If not, at least I’m moving forward instead of staying under the covers.