Hello human of wildly inappropriate thoughts,
Apologies if you find that salutation insulting. I don't mean to insult you. I’m merely suggesting that you, like anybody else (me), has thoughts, entirely unprovoked and at random, that can be filed under ‘extremely wildly inappropriate’. And when you do have them, all you can do is raise your eyebrows, heave your sigh of horror, and continue doing the dishes.
One of the most difficult tasks I contend with every week is deciding what to write in my newsletter. (OK, I can hear you go, "This?! Is your most difficult task every week??" Well, I'm just, you know, just saying. Let a person speak. jfc.)
Sunday Slant™ is an experiment that has been ongoing for over a year now, and still, every freakin’ Saturday, I sit in front of the computer, with Ulysses (my preferred writing app) open, staring into the abyss that is a blank white screen. The distraction-free mode is literally a white screen in Ulysses (which is why I like it so much). Look:
After sitting in front of the screen for more minutes than I can count, I then force myself to just type and come up with something. Rarely do I ever sit down knowing exactly what I'm going to write. I almost always figure out what I’m thinking by writing/typing the words. This is common knowledge amongst those who write regularly, but when I discovered it myself, it ‘hit different’. On the rare occasion that I do know what to write about before I start, the writing happens very fast—which is always a delight.
After having done this every week for some 80 weeks now—I should probably add the modifier ‘only’, I saw someone recently complete the 20th anniversary of their blog, pfft—I still drag my feet to write this and find it difficult. I don’t know what I’m trying to achieve with this newsletter. Some issues have taken me days to write, while many others have been written up in a few hours. It is my stream-of-consciousness weekly entry, that forces me to publish something that will be read by, at least, three and a half persons.
The one thing I have come to finally finalise for the final time, is to send it on Sunday no matter what. That was how it started and I want to bring that routine back for the people who read it (you, thank you very much!) and for me; as I have also come to realise for the umpteenth time—done is better than good even, in any situation that isn't life-threatening. Writing is often non-life-threatening... at least for the writer.
Have a good Sunday,
Next week: I may talk about ‘meal planning’.
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