I’m a homebody. I like tradition. I like schedules. I like routine.
But when it comes to sitting down and writing something – anything – I need the exact opposite.
This weekend, I had plans. Big plans. (Aren’t they always?). I had plans to get a move on with some planned post for this blog, plus some other writing projects I’ve had on the back burner for a while. And it seemed like this weekend was tailor-made for such activity: I had absolutely nothing planned all weekend, and it was gorgeous outside, which always bodes well for my mood.
And yet I got absolutely zero words written. Until now.
What changed? Simple. I left the apartment.
Sure, I had stepped out to the grocery store, and sundry other tasks in my immediate neighborhood, in the past two days, but it was all still part of my routine. It wasn’t until I actually left the house to an entirely different location that my mind started whirling and my fingers began to itch.
It happens so often you’d think I’d be used to it by now and understand that I need a change of scenery to kickstart my mind. Now that the weather is nicer, perhaps it will be easier for me to expand my “neighborhood” and figure out the best way to tap into that energy.
So that’s my goal for the summer: to leave my apartment (aka the black hole) and see what I can do. Wish me luck!