I’ve done most of my writing goal today. I give myself an absurdly, stupidly low number to hit, and then it’s always a bonus if and/or when I go beyond it. Mentally, I freak out if I give myself about 500 words to hit each day – I always end up panicking about whether the stuff I’ve written is actually of any use at all – so I stick to a worthy little 300 words, and then I can take as long as I need in order to get the words right.
Have never been one of those writers who just likes to write random bullshit. It gives me the heebie-jeebies doing that, and if I have to scrap what I’ve done anyway, I’d like to know that I’d put effort into it in the first place.
Not long before we leave for the end of the shift, but I’m reasonably happy (ish) with the work I’ve done today. It’s still a process of translating the details I wrote in the first draft, and I’m about a third of the way through. The good thing is that not all of it needs ‘translated’, just about seven or eight sections that will need a bit of focus—and put into the correct tense (when I’m racing through the details of a first draft, I like to write in present tense instead of past).
Not much is happening at work, for which my writing is thanking me, Jesus, and the people who’ve sent us here.
Anyway, beyond that, I went for a run yesterday and hit a PB because I thought I was going to be late for dinner.
The circus continues.