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Mood: content (yeah, I know, let’s see how long it lasts;))

Listening to: Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer

Drinking: vanilla-cinnamon cappuccino

…Don’t look at me like that, Sledgehammer is a thing of awesome.

Same-old here: still querying, getting the occasional R and the occasional request (I like those latter ones much better, of course); still trying to get my head back in the chosen WIP of the moment, which as of now looks to be my YA fantasy set in Elizabethan England –but may, at any moment, change to my modern-day UF, because I’m just crazy like that. Still going to the gym 4 days out of 7, and enjoying the effects of my newly-discovered running-2-miles-backwards-uphill-on-the-elliptical technique (yes, I know everyone’s been doing this for a long time; I’m slow, okay?).  Still running at a full sprint at work. Still getting used to this whole “summer” thing too: hell, even when it’s not nice out it’s still nice out. It’s bewildering.

My days don’t look too hugely different from each other, is what I’m saying.

Hollywood tells us this is boring: and they’re not always wrong, but they’re rarely right, at least about this. I get up at the same time each day; I have my coffee up here while I write something every day; I go to the gym at the same time; I get home around the same time; The Dogginess gets her walk after dinner, etc., etc. Rinse-repeat.

I sound like I’m complaining, but I’m not: we break it up often enough to make this routine seem comforting, and knowing what to expect means my head’s already where it has to be out of sheer habit.

Being a writer, and one with a certain (if far-to-often-ignored) sense of personal discipline, having my head where it needs to be, even if it’s just out of habit, is a damned good thing. Right now, while my brain is still stuck on WEAVE because it’s out there in the world being scrutinized, and on SWORD and SONG because I’m thinking of some serious overhauling there, and on everything else happening in my life– the fact that I come up here with my coffee every morning and my wine every evening at the same time means that even when most of my neurons are working on other things, I can still write.

I may not write much, and I may not write anything I’ll want to keep later, but this is one of those habits I want to cling to, even if it sucks: even if what ends up on the page is a dream-sequence prologue with a Mary Sue farmgirl finding out she’s a freaking princess.As long as I’m moving forward I’ll –well, keep moving forward.

Routine can be a good thing. Boring, on occasion; and routine should definitely be shaken up often enough so it doesn’t become that other r-word of habit, rut, but too-much-of-a-good-thing applies just about anywhere.

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