Since I spent the last several weeks developing a binge writing habit, rather than training myself out of it, I'm glad I took a good week long "no writing" break to recover from my cold, my exams, and my old binge writing self.
Off to a good start this monday morning, thanks in part to fall backwards. My sweet husband-- who is keeping a writing schedule with me--woke up first. He went straight to the futon with his laptop before discovering that it wasn't really early, it was stupidly early. He came back to bed for a couple of hours.
Hmm, it isn't even 8:30 yet, and now I'm taking a break to let myself know that I obviously have more to say than I think. The three sentence note I meant to make about a page (yep, just one page) of Clarissa turned into three paragraphs and lots of words. And I ended up sticking her in a bathroom stall on a college campus reading all the sharpie responses to her rape confession. (I wonder if this is the sort of thing my committee members have been gently cautioning me against--the bathroom stall thing. I don't know. I'm the one who was working crisis intervention for the D.V. and date rape problems on my big-ten campus. Am I being flip, or am I the real girl, here?)
I won't worry, yet. I have a good team of editors to coax me out of the bathroom stalls if they find me skipping class in there.
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