A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-And-Sixty-One

 Of course, I did not do my work this morning, as I had intended to, and I am now another night behind, with less time to do what must be done before my deadline.  I should work on it tonight, but, again, I feel it is too late, so I am trusting myself to do it tomorrow.  I suppose the pressure of the deadline may be helpful.  I certainly wish I had started sooner, but it is not always a matter of what I want: that pressure matters, even in terms of clarifying my ideas.  If I had known where to begin, I would have been writing last week, but the fact that I still had time made it feel reasonable to wait, and kept me from working hard on nailing down what I was going to do.  I had a few ideas, but none seemed quite right.  Maybe if I had worked one of those, I might be done already, but I didn't.  Now, I do have an idea, as I said last night, and I have to wonder if waiting for the deadline to be so close wasn't necessary in order to get my mind in gear.

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