I feel like I've been drifting the past few months. Even though I've had a lot going on, my feeling of accomplishment rarely reflects what I've achieved. I think that's because I wasn't doing three things that make me feel accomplished: regular exercise, regular writing, and, as much as it pains me to say it, housework.
This month, I've set about correcting those gross oversights on my part. I'm back to keeping the house in order; I'm writing once more, and I've been doing yoga everyday. Monday, I did bellydancing; yesterday I added cycling to the mix; and this morning I went for a swim. A real swim. No fins and no mask, so no temptation to watch all the pretty fishes. Just me stroking away, feeling more like a ... well, I'm having a hard time coming up with a description for how graceless and gasping I was, so we'll just abandon that right now, shall we?
Despite how ridiculous I felt, I swam my 500m and felt better for it.
Every time I get on one of my do-right-by-myself kicks, I feel great. I have energy. I have serenity. So why do I always seem to turn it around into a sabotage kick in the gut? I don't know, but I wish 2009 would be the year I get over it.
I can't say that the writing is progressing in leaps and bounds, but I'm determinedly carrying on at it. I've gotten a smattering of new words every day for...hmmm, I don't know how long now. Last time I whined, I think. Anyhow, I'm slowly starting to get a better handle on the latest (and hopefully last) POV I have to master for this new book (not that I've mastered the others, but I was able to pass the point of caring and just left First Draft happen).
It's time the steamroller started moving ahead, so I think I'll be rejoining the novel_in_90</lj> comm, even if things are pretty quiet over there these days. Maybe I'll get back on the OWW. My membership is almost up and I haven't used it at all in about a year. Bad, bad me...