After an early success last month (against my writing goals) and all the distractions of real life, I have fallen severely behind on my writing and it seems like the little rules that I had set for myself at the start of last month have all but fallen by the wayside. They were easy enough to follow at the time, but they fell away just as easy at the end of last month and seem far more difficult to slip back into now.
It is, at times, hard to see the benefit of forcing myself to write. While I enjoy it when it is going well, I will fully admit there are days where it just seems like more work to be done. Just another chore. Of course, the idea behind forcing myself to write, to actually polish my skills and get good enough to get published, is that it will actually be work. My real work. My full-time, pays the mortgage, work. That is the dream that I need to remind myself of at times like these. The idea that I might one day be able to get paid for doing something I enjoy and that I might not have to stare at Excel all day to earn a living wage.
Focus, focus, focus.