debilitating lethargy

When the kids are at home, I rarely think twice about how much work I’m doing. The constant routine of serving food and drinks, changing diapers, picking up toys, kissing booboos and changing more diapers doesn’t wear me out. I don’t feel tired or stressed.

Since I know there’s no choice in the matter — little ones don’t care how tired you are — it doesn’t even faze me.

But this weekend Jennifer took the kids to see Grandma. They’ve been gone since Thursday and, aside from a relatively busy Friday at the office, I haven’t done jack.

I managed to pick up after myself, put socks in the hamper and wrappers in the trashcan; Jenn’s expecting the house to be a little cleaner when she gets home, not a new stage of messy.

But the projects I thought I’d get done in peace and quiet still hang unfinished. The two stories I said I’d write from home and e-mail to my editor? I did finish one, but the other trails off beyond the anecdotal lede.

I tell myself that “I’ve earned it,” but that’s not true. My performance too often lags to lower expectations; my output is low, and my procrastination swells. I find myself writing, but not creating. I string together notes, self-criticism or the occasional list or brainstorm. But continuity of thought is rare, and the copy serves no purpose, creative or professional.

I have stories to tell, but lack the motivation to tell them. When the children get back, I’ll lack the opportunity; you can bet that’s when the motivation will return, only to be interrupted, forgotten.

I hope this wasn’t too dreary a way to launch this blog. It’s reason for being is to help overcome this debilitating lethargy to which I often succumb.  I have faith my writing is a gift from my creator, a special talent endowed specifically to me. At eclecticana, I hope to figuratively banish the demon of sloth that’s masking my talent.

~ by mrbitterness on March 9, 2008.