Today is Christmas and I am now sitting in my living room surrounded by unwrapped gifts and other such things. For those of us in the West, this bastardized pagan holiday means presents. I don't care how many times you've read "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" there are very few who see it as anything but a trip to the mall as they scramble to fill the holiday quota.
What about my quota? Am I so pathetic that I should spend 25th of December tapping away at my keyboard working on my novel instead of spending time with family? Should I spend the most wonderful time of the year trying to keep up with my writing schedule? The simple answer to that is no.
I may be doing my best (and am failing) to stay up with my standard of one-page-a-day . I typed three pages the day before yesterday and no pages yesterday so if I don't type anything today on December 25 then it'll all even out. I mean, it's Christmas! I'm not supposed to be working, I should be playing with the toys that Santa left me, with my little wooden train and my new toy drum. That's what Christmas is all about!
Who knows? I might type stuff up today and I might not. I do not like to procrastinate but it is just so easy to do so with the holidays right here. I probably won't get much writing done today. I'll leave it for Boxing Day.
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