You know those weekends that totally slip away from you? Like sand through an hourglass or leaves in the wind or something else equally dramatic? I just had of one of those. On Sunday, Mr. Ogden and I had some friends over to watch the Oscars, which meant that on Saturday, we had some errands to run and some chores to do. I had this great mental to-do list that would help us get ready, but would also leave me plenty of time to write. I bet you can guess what happens (but hey, at least we had fun hosting on Sunday…)
I am not sure why this surprises me. Even on weekends when we’re not really busy, the time I put into my project never matches what I envisioned it would be.
I usually imagine my weekends looking something like this:
- Get up early, make coffee, leisurely lounge in our apartment while wearing cute, feminine pajamas that fit me ridiculously well and don’t look at all sloppy
- Write thousands of beautiful words by mid-morning
- Enjoy a gourmet brunch with Mr. Ogden, probably including salmon omelets or fresh berries or Belgian waffles or all three.
- Leisurely drink more coffee.
- Write thousands more words of staggering genius
- Take a romantic walk with Mr. Ogden around the neighborhood, discuss sophisticated topics like European vacations, libraries, and monocles
- Re-read what I’ve written and congratulate myself on its glory (but not in an arrogant way). Add another few thousand or so Pulitzer-worthy words
- Spend my evening on some sort of adult excursion, perhaps wearing heels or a blazer.
In reality, Saturdays usually look more like this.
- Get up, immediately make coffee. Turn on the computer and read up on celebrity gossip and currents events in sweatpants that don’t fit me well at all.
- Open my manuscript and intend to write, but make an awesome writing playlist instead
- Eat some breakfast with my husband, probably cereal or fruit or something that doesn’t require heat
- Drink more coffee. Get the jitters
- Re-read some chapters that were finished weeks ago
- Take a shower
- Eat lunch
- Notice that I really need to tidy the kitchen, which makes it hard to concentrate
- Tidy the kitchen.
- Sit back down at my desk. Realize it’s getting late, allow inspiration to strike
- Knock out 3,000 words. Bam. Call it good.
Does this happen to anyone else, or is it just me?