Morning

There is something about getting up early and writing that always makes me feel virtuous. I like the way it gets the guilt of not-writing out of the way early, the way it sets the tone for the rest of the day (in which I think about writing in moderation, rather than obsessing about the fact that I’m not writing to the exclusion of all else), and the excuse to drink inhuman amounts of coffee.

If only I didn’t have to pay for these early starts later (say, around 3:30 when I crash out and need a nap) or actually wrote productively (this week, getting up at six and working for two and a half hours has netted me a paragraph of thesis work a day) it’d be an awesome habit to get into; sadly, I am not built for mornings and it’ll fall by the wayside once I have absolved myself of my latest bout of writer-guilt. Which I’m slowly starting to do in relation to the thesis – today I got past the big mental block that stopped me finishing chapter two – but there’s plenty more hiding up the back of the novel/novella/short-story slacker variety.

And now I dance off, clad in my green shoes and least-salacious unicorn shirt, to collect first-year assignments and start marking them. Will probably spend tonight kicking around the Gold Coast and being a slacker, so I’ll catch you all tomorrow.

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