Monday, December 30, 2013

I have no one to blame but myself. And the CEO of Netflix.

My Christmas holidays have come and gone, and with them, a little bit of self-respect. I managed to get zero writing done in the time off work I had. Even when it came to Christmas cards I was like "Arggghhhh. Do I have to actually write something here?" Which was followed by a sort of goat sound. 

My standard 2013 Christmas card message. LAZY.

That is not my name, by the way. "Emi____." See what I'm talking about? I couldn't even be bothered to write my whole name!

Most of the time I eschewed Christmas cards altogether, opting instead for those teeny gift tags whose limited real estate make writing more than one's name impossible. Gift tags are absolutely brilliant for this very reason. I don't care how important you are to me or how much I love you -- from this day forward, you will only receive gift tags.

This writing laziness of mine stretched all the way back to my sister's early December baby shower. At the brief message I'd jotted in the card, one guest shouted, in mock horror, "But you're a writer! You should do better!" Which made me want to wrestle her to the ground and hogtie her with pink streamers.

So I feel bad about not writing. But I also feel pretty good. I needed a brain break, yes, but more than that, I needed to feel what I'm feeling right now: I miss writing. I don't feel like myself without it in my life, and the things I thought I could fill my life with if I chose to give it up, well, I don't seem to be doing those things. I mean, I had basically an entire week free, and I didn't do any of them.

Here are the things:
1. Teach myself the ukulele
2. Learn a new language
3. Enjoy winter
4. Something else that I forgot about, because that's how much I was going to follow through with it

So now all I have is a sore thumb from flipping through Netflix and a bruised sense of self-worth. Oh, and a Vitamix! (I got a Vitamix, you guys! Kale smoothies for everyone!)

I did manage to get in some outdoor exercise, though, despite the treacherous weather. For example, Anthony and I went for a walk on the trail near our place. Normally it would be clear of trees and full to the seams with joyful dogs. But post ice storm, it looked like this:

Anthony amidst trees bent and broken by the ice storm that hit
on December 22 and took 20% of Toronto's urban forest with it.

This is the kind of wintery BS that inspired my first novel. Which only served to remind me that I hadn't been working on my second novel. LAZY.

Anyways, that's me. How was your Christmas break, for those lucky enough to get one? Did you get any writing done? You can tell me, really. I promise not to hogtie you.


  1. You HAVE done some brilliant writing over your holidays. "Hogtie with pink streamers"? I mean, come on. THE BEST!

    1. It was the very thought running through my mind.