Today was full of but(t)s…

Today was full of but(t)s… well, I guess really my whole is life is full of but(t)s.

From the ongoing cycle of pulling out seasonal clothes that don’t seem to fit as well as they did last season, to being the mother of a four year old who’s discovering the infinite humor associated with the body, as well as the power of words. But today was full of my own ‘buts’ and they had nothing to do with my jeans or son.

Sunday is my favorite day, my ‘to-do’ day. I pick up the house, I do the laundry, and my husband and I plan our week. I enjoy the feeling of Sunday, knowing my house is in order means I can start the week off right.

Since I’ve started writing the Madigan Trilogy, Sundays have the bonus of finding a few hours alone to write. ‘But’ today, it didn’t work. Not because I didn’t have time, not because my husband’s ‘to-do’ list over-powered mine, and not because my children weren’t their normal cheery, playful selves. It was because of another ‘but’, my ‘but’.

• “I’ll start writing in two minutes, ‘but’ I need to change the laundry.”
• “I need to revise that paragraph while the idea is fresh, ‘but’ I need to send that email first.”
• “Okay, one kid napping, the other at a birthday party. I have two hours to myself, let’s get this going.”

‘But’ it just didn’t happen.

As a writer, these are the moments I find incredibly frustrating. When you have every intention to focus on your work, ‘but’ nothing comes out. It isn’t clicking, your mojo is off, the flow of creativity is disrupted and just bumbling along. Granted, I’m sure the other distractions didn’t help, ‘but’ I really had some ideas that I couldn’t formulate. I really wanted to lose myself in my story, to find new ways to express my thoughts, and to smooth transitions. I really just wanted to write.

‘But’ it wasn’t working. Even though I know these characters and this story so well, and even though I knew what I wanted to accomplish, I couldn’t get myself going. My brain felt like a turtle, okay, more like a snail.

I probably should give myself a little latitude. ‘But’ on days like these, I feel guilty… and sad. Because I know Monday means that I return to ‘normal’ life. I get the kids to daycare, I work at my ‘day-job’, we squeeze in family time and a meal, and then I’m too exhausted to do anything else.

Sundays are my day to be a writer, and for right or wrong, on days like these, I feel as though I fail.

I guess sometimes we have to understand the ‘buts’ and realize we’re only human.

Maybe someday, I’ll take my own advice.

Tawn