I seriously need some butt glue to keep me in my chair. I approach my chair with the fullest intention of sitting down to write for hours, knowing my masterpiece will be finished by supper time.
Here’s what typically happens, my gluteus maximus has no more than made contact with the fabric of my chair when my brain kicks into distraction overdrive. Suddenly my gray matter is flooded with images of a sink buried in dishes, laundry flowing from its bin like lava, dust bunnies growling at each other under the sofa, and I discover a hangnail that simply must be clipped … right now.
And then the phone rings. And then the dog needs to go out, And then I need a drink, which in the process of getting I discover I’m out of ice cubes so I need to fill all the trays, and walking back to my chair I see the mail on the table that I forgot to read yesterday … squirrel!
Can anyone else relate?! (Please tell me I’m not alone.)