Constraint

All day I've wanted to write - and all day things have interrupted me.  First there was book group - that was fine, then it was time to clear up the spare room to show the estate agent. Then I had a bit of break - and when I was thinking of getting down to some work I had boys coming home from school to tend, and then I felt tired and had a snooze.

I really need a good chunk of time to do stuff... I don't like feeling I'm going to be interrupted.  So I need to schedule things all for the same day, so that I can ensure I have some free days for writing - and the other "sacrificial days" for when I know I can't.   I am completely amazed how much this sense of "commission" from The Agent has impelled me to write with such intensity.  It's also a commitment to The Romantic Feminist - I really want to make it into something good - and I can't see how to do that until I've finished the first draft...

These constraints are not good - they reduce my commitment to the diet - and make me grumpy and resentful of the nearest and dearest who wish to engage me in conversation on matters of interest to them.  I think, in all honesty, that this would be true whoever my N&D was... it's not just Mark, it's my need to write being frustrated by whomever... men are so demanding.

Today I was troubled by drifting thoughts on the ever interesting subject, but I think it's just a reflex.