Sometimes, it is just too easy to find things to do other than write.Lolling about in bed in the arms of a lover is a sweet way to procrastinate, but there still is no writing done! Wandering through Facebook, or rereading emails or trying to learn new writing programs – well, this all takes away the precious time for writing…

There’s something good about procrastinating, though.  When I delay writing, I can feel it building up in me, swelling up, like a boil about to burst. At this point, after a couple of days of being too ill with dratted MS to think (see: dabble58.blogspot.com) and input of movies, music, and touch, my creative juices have come to a boil and want to be let loose. Maybe it was Alice in Wonderland.  Maybe it was Duo Brazil. Maybe it was a langorous sleep. But I am percolating.

So tomorrow I kill someone, fictionally. There’s a writing competition pending and I gotta enter it. First task is to do a draft of my poor victim’s demise. Then on to some non-fiction writing and those boring business calls to tax men and etc.

And in the back of my mind, I’ll be dreaming about the biggest procrastination trip yet – Ms. DA and her Mad Sow hit the West. Route 66 will never be the same.

Before this, though, I’ve gotta float some ideas to publishers, maybe get some drafts sent out, start the process to get some interest in an article enroute.  Because if I don’t, I’ll just procrastinate the whole way there and back, and that’d be too bad.

I need to write. And I need to record my adventure.  Realistically, how many 4’11” tall 51 year old women with MS do that drive? If nothing else, the angle of my view will be different (okay, lower) than most. A bit foggy, a bit wobbly, and a bit garbled, but perhaps interesting, nonetheless.

So, writing and adventuring, ho!