It's taken me about 15 minutes to log in to the Internet which has definitely disrupted the mellow calm I've been feeling this morning.
This is our last full day here. Last night I thought I might be ready to go home today. Now I'm glad for another day.
I slept much better last night. Woke up early again and journaled. Next, I showered, dressed, got coffee and walked around the building and the grounds. At eight, I had a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, French toast, more coffee and orange juice. I walked the labyrinth and sampled the water views from several wooden benches.
Now I'm sitting on my private porch. I guess people are busy in programs because I've only seen two other people outside.
Jeff sent me a wonderful email last night. It included the lines:
"It is more important to enjoy yourself than to write down words on a piece of paper. Who knows maybe you just need to stop thinking for a bit so you can start thinking again."
Last night I was doubting my writing--wondering why I did it--wondering if I am a writer. Darlene said something to the effect that by virtue of asking the question, I'm a writer.
I revised about 400 words and wrote about 600 yesterday. As I was writing, I thought that I had too much description, too much exposition, not enough action. It needed so much work.
But that's the whole point of the shitty first draft. You have to get something down first before you cut, edit and revise. I'm on my way.
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