I count the days much like I did when I quit smoking. Three days since my last cigarette. Ten days since my last cigarette. Twenty-two days since my last cigarette.
Counting reminded me of how far I had come. It helped strengthen my willpower when I wanted to quit. Did really I want to start at day one again?
That’s the question I’m faced with as I face today’s blog. I’m tired of trying to figure out what to write. There is so much I need to do to get ready for Christmas Day. Not to mention the fact that I desperately need a day off. It’s like having unfinished homework hanging over your head everyday.
I gave up cigarettes for lent in 1994, and for forty days all I thought about was smoking. I kept telling myself all I had to do was make it to Easter Sunday. If I wanted one after that, then I could have one. Though the craving was intense at times, I perserved. By the time Easter came around, I no longer had a desire for cigarettes. Shortly after that, I stopped counting.
But then my husband and I decided to spend a week with our families between Christmas and New Years. By New Year’s Eve my stress level was off the charts. Eight months of being smoke free no longer mattered. I wanted and had a cigarette.
It tasted horrible and did nothing for my stress. I started my count again.
Coming up with a new idea to write about everyday is challenging. It would be a lot easier to build on an existing idea. Your brain could focus on how to expand or develop what you already have. Ideas percolate overnight and pour easier on the page the next day.
Thinking about this concept makes me wonder why it’s been so hard to finish the revisions on my novel. Something to consider for a future blog.
In the meantime, I’ve made through another day. The counting continues.