I remember in University, especially the last two years, my love/hate relationship with paper writing. The more my speciality eased towards humanities and social science the more words I seemed to be required to pump out of my over-tired, over-stimulated, over-worked brain. The Sociologies specifically seemed to churn out one paper after another. Fifteen pages on this, twenty five on that, a fifty pager as a semester closing. Although a few of my classes caught my attention and interest in bold enough manner to warrant some serious research and early starting on writing, many of the papers I wrote started just like this, at 10:38pm on a Sunday night, with a 9am Monday deadline looming.
Fortunately for me there is no professor with an iron fist or the threat of losing 25% a day over a series of days I haven't turned in a paper; rather the unfortunate gnawing of a self-imposed deadline I am not going to make. Write five blogs a month for 2011, says my annual goal sheet. I sigh heavily eight days in and notice I missed the mark for April and have lacked the inspiration and motivation to make something happen at the start of this new month.
My topics seem flat, my ideas uninteresting. I started to composed and find myself yawning. Let's take a moment and let that sit folks. I am yawning at my OWN writing. I feel the instant need for a nice big glass of Pinot or the urge to purchase a plane ticket. I grasp at ideas. I feel like I am writing a paper supporting globalization theories and practises inside Canadian government. Read: yawn. Word check for the hundredth time. Have I really only wrote 250 words of a 1,500 word paper? Shoot.
So while I bound around looking for my lost words, I leave heading to iPhoto to review photos of late. I am hoping that while I look at them I will be struck, lightening like, for word inspiration.
Also, on a completely unrelated note but pertinent to Sarah, to answer the question from your blog: Rent the Musical and Best of AC/DC. Although I also liked your video posted.
I live in Calgary where I own a small business, instruct fitness classes and call myself an endurance athlete. I am the proud owner of four bikes, an expensive wine education, and a strange fascination with the colour orange. I have a long-time love of football, baking, and coffee. I put my minor in creative writing to use occasionally both here and in other publications.
I live with my tall, handsome and often-hungry professional triathlete husband.
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