I am determined to finish all my unfinished, planned, hoped for, dreamed of posts by end of this month. These mock me, these unfinished writings, sitting at the top of my edit window taking up screen real estate (note to self–change this in weblogging software)-sticking their tongues out at me and going, Neener, neener, you can’t finish me.
Self-rightous words on a flat screen.
Undisciplined would-be writer!
Pedantic puffs of postery.
Into P’s, eh? Well how about ‘procrastination’?
To all things there is a season…
Cut the touchy feely crap
Let me finish…
Ms. Can’t-Finish-Shit
Verbal trash.
Takes one to know one, lady!
I can delete you, you know.
Ha! You still have that unfinished post from December, 2003!
You can’t win when you argue with your writing. All you can do is finish it and push it out into public, and then let the little suckers sink or swim on their own. Or hope for a computer crash–whichever comes first.
(”Oh, darn! They’re all gone now. And I was just about to finish the one from December, 2003. Darn.”)
First, though, I need some photos for my stories, in addition to quiet time in the woods for some hard thinking, and even harder decisions. Then I’ll finish the little buggers.
Yeah, right! That’s what they all say. “First, I need to ….” But we’re not going away, honey. We’ll be here when you get back. You can run, but you can’t…
