Planning to Fail - My Solution to Being a Perfectionist - Day 2
Life happens. Right?
Right now I am sitting in a weird contraption of a chair that sits caddy-corner to my son's hospital bed. The chair is a very faux burnt orange leather (think 70s) that transforms into a makeshift cot. When you lay on your back, your butt squeezes out of gap that forms when the chair is reclined. It sucks. I have a big butt.
On Sunday evening my oldest son came to me and said, "You need to take me to the hospital." Honestly, Jon and I thought he may have been trying to get out of school - but its not everyday one of the kids asks to be taken to the hospital. After all - they have needles. To make a long story short - He was just moved from the ICU into a regular hospital room. If we sound like clueless parents - we aren't. Even the Drs were shocked at how sick he was compared to how healthy he looked.
Needless to say, there was no writing.
Even though we were is the midst of a family emergency, the perfectionist/critic reared her head and attempted a two-fold attack on my pysche. Weapons of choice were 1) guilt for not writing 2) disgust for being a terrible writer. However, the attack failed. I fought off the guilt rather easily. After all I was taking care of my son, what's more important than that? And the ugly truth is I am a terrible writer. That is the whole point of this experiment- to kill my perfectionism by not planning anything (including writing well). All I have to do is write everyday. Its all about the discipline.
Hmm, for some reason my scheduled post for Sunday didn't publish...dang. Technology.