Writing to Meet a Deadline

I only write to meet a deadline.  No deadline, no writing.

Of course, the deadline for my writing this blog is self-imposed, and for more than three years I have met every weekly “deadline,” including emailing one blog to my assistant on a Monday at 10:45 pm so that she could post it for Tuesday morning delivery.

I was urged by Nancy, my friend and editor, to “get ahead” by writing three or four blogs before I left on vacation last Monday.  She also suggested that it would be alright if I took a “vacation” from writing during my honeymoon.  “People will understand.”

Thanks, Nancy, but I’m remembering my brief “neat desk” policy.

My desk has always been cluttered.  Books, file folders, loose papers, and pens are strewn everywhere.  Not a pretty picture.  Early in my career I found a check for a rather large amount that had gotten lost for three months under all the rubble.

To bring order to that chaos, I decided to adopt a “neat desk” policy and clear everything off my desk before I left each day.  I succeeded for nine months. Then one evening as I was leaving I stared at three pieces of paper that I hadn’t bothered to put away yet and I had the following dialogue with myself.

“If you don’t pick up those three pieces of paper your ‘clean desk’ experiment will be finished and everything will revert back to the way it was before.”

“But I don’t want to pick them up.”

“Then it’s over.  The clutter will return.”

“I don’t care.”

“But . . . “

I didn’t, and my desk has been a mess ever since.

So, Nancy, based on that experience I’m afraid that if I don’t write my blog every single week, it will be over.  It would be too easy for me to skip one week, then the next, then find a reason why I don’t ever have to resume.  This is a part of my ongoing internal battle between productivity and lethargy.

So “hello” from our honeymoon. We are currently in Fiji.  It’s warm.  My sunburn from our kayak expedition a few days ago is receding.  Sprite and I are enjoying the food, the tropical scenery, and each other’s company.

Habits.  Like them or not, we each are doomed to live with our own.

Now I’m off to the dining room.  I may leave papers on my desk.  Occasionally I miss a minor business deadline.  But I’m never late for dinner. And I’ve yet to miss a blog.

Alan