On My Lack of Motivation Today

I should be writing. I should tuck myself away at my desk with my coffee and my book and just knock out the words one page at a time. Yet, I’m not. I’m sitting here, staring out the window, complaining to myself that I can’t seem to get up the motivation to write. I’m wasting my priceless time whining about never having time. What is wrong with me?

The house is still asleep. We had our monthly get together last night; the booze ran freely, so the house will stay asleep for a while yet. My girls (way too young for the grown up juice) are also still asleep. Even the cat is dead to the world as she basks in the early sun. I should take advantage of this rarity. I want to take advantage of this rarity. I’m not taking advantage of this rarity.

My desk is already set up. I don’t need to reorganize my notes or writing to do list. I don’t need to go through a mountain of writing that’s accumulated since my last sprint. My calendar is up to date, I have an empty inbox. The monthly newsletter for my writers group is already sent on its way and the next isn’t due until next month. I’m current on all my social media outlets. So, what’s stopping me from just picking up that pencil and writing?

I’m feeling pretty good today. I can feel the words, the stories, just begging to be released. Already my fingers are fending the feel of paper and graphite. I’m working on my second cup of coffee and the buzz juice has cleared the sleep fog from my head. So I should be able to let the words free. But instead, I’m complaining that I should be writing. How can I get over this hump?

Why is it that my motivation is gone when I have this great opportunity? Why is it I just have to write when things are so crazy I don’t even have time to eat? Would it help if I just put my butt in the chair, picked up the tools of my passion and just did it already? Is that how I’ll get anything done today or will I just stare at the blank page and get all sorts of flustered?