Sunday of the first week of summer holidays. I am driving Chris bonkers. I am driving myself bonkers. Restless energy. Pent up adrenelaine that has no outlet. No outlet except housework. Housework that I don't want to do. But my mind won't focus on anything. I need a project, an anchor. I am hoping that I can restart writing. It would be hugely satisfying if I could finish something this summer. If I listen carefully enough, I can hear the characters, but I am not able to read because I fear that it will be garbage when I read it again. Haha, Excuses, excuses. I trap myself with manufactured worry when I should just take the chance. I will: Tomorrow I will reread Sissy's piece - I know where the gaps are, I need to fill them in.
This summer deserves to be a time of rest and relaxation. Productivity will be defined through the creative action, not housework. So, doing one creative thing a day will equal one hour of domestic responsibility completed.