Maybe it's the grimness of November, although we had sun yesterday, or maybe its simply the arrival of my second childhood, but in any case, I spend much more time at play than at work.
Yesterday was a productive time. I finished final revisions to a story, wrote three letters, sent the story to three places and finally showered and dressed at noon. I could feel virtuous about that, except; I goofed off all weekend and so far today, I've played Scrabulous, ordered Christmas gifts, bought a lottery ticket, surfed the Internet and had two cups of coffee. I am also reading a Quintin Jardine mystery and Novelist's Essential Guide to Crafting Scenes. Evidently, I have a lot to learn in that department.
D. will be here for tea and a chat this evening so now I must find the top of my desk and tidy my apartment. How did I generate so much mess in one day of work? Would I ever be able to find anything if I worked more often?
Play has it's benefits-- I've learned that qat is a valid Scrabulous word. But now I must make a list of things I have to do. Drat! Second childhood interrupted.