Procrastination station

I've been back at work for two weeks, and it's becoming increasingly clear to me that my heart isn't in it, at least for now. Though my job is fairly easy, I'm engaged in a form of sleepwalking, or waking dreaming, which I find quite draining. Being bored at work sucks my energy and leaves me with little enthusiasm for my own creative writing or doing much else.

In the short run, I'm trying to schedule something else each day outside of work, something I can get 'juiced' about. I'm teaching several workshops this fall, and taking an intensive memoir-writing class, which will hopefully lead me to a published book. I've been dicking around for the past 8 years with two manuscripts--one a memoir and one a collection of essays--neither of which are likely to get published in book form, unless I publish them myself. I believe my current project has more potential and would appeal to a wider audience; I just have to park my butt in a chair and write it!

But lately, I've been in vacation mode, with less motivation to write than my cat, Santosh, who is currently perched on the back of my couch, snoozing away, content to be 'in the moment.' I've noticed that sometimes I'm most resistant to the things that give me the most joy or satisfaction. My inner teenager wants to veg in front of the TV or leaf through a magazine, and though I try to explain how doing the work leads to long-term satisfaction, my teenage brain just mutters 'humph' and flips another page of People magazine.

That's the nice thing about blogging. If anyone bothers to read this, I get the satisfaction of writing and being read, and yet it doesn't feel like work. At the same time, I'm warming myself up for a rewrite of a chapter of my book. And now, on to the work!