Two Sarongs don't make a right.

Posted by Jeni in Ad Infinitum | 3 January 2010

Sunday January 3rd and I'm all set to go.

My new decade resolution is to write for three hours every day. Malcom Bradwell in the 'Outfliers' says that it takes 10,000 hours to become a genius. So by his reckoning 3 hours every day for ten years will turn me into Iris Murdock.

It was easy starting on new Years Day, even easier on Saturday, since Jim was rehearsing, and this morning was a delight.

The trouble starts with tomorrow.

Should I get up normal time and write at the end of the day?

Should I get up at 5.30 and write at the beginning of the day?

Should I have a cat-nap and write at 10.00 o'clock at night?

I've asked appropriate girlfriends, 'What kind of sleeper are you? said Lyn B. 'A railway one.' I replied.

She meant when do I work best, morning, evening or night?

The truth is I know longer know what kind of creature-of-habit I am. I do know that habit helps and I do know that I can do just as much on very little sleep, age I'm told. I remember John Cleese saying that as he gets older he hates going to sleep in case he misses anything....I know how he feels.

So I've set my alarm for 5.30 a.m. I shall meditate for 20 minutes, turn on my SAD lamp, write from 6-9 then dress and set off for work.
If it works on Monday I shall try it on Tuesday and continue until I fall asleep over my mic. on Wednesday.

It's been a strange Christmas and New Year. Every year I promise myself a trip to the sun, every year I don't do it. Every year I imagine the world from a hammock, on a sun-kissed beach, bringing in the New Year with a glass of rum and a sarong.

Every year I envy the tan of the travelled, every year I promise myself that this will be the last year that I stay at home, duster in hand, iron at the ready and hoover to go. Every year I promise myself that I deserve a vacation in the tumbling waves of a Caribbean island and EVERY YEAR, so far, I have ended up in a heap of indecision.

I want my cottage, I want my family, but I want to be able to say NO to housework. I find it incredibly difficult to relax in my own home - love it though I do.

So welcome to 2010. I begin with a moan, not a major whinge just a whiney kind of hurrumph. I am grateful to be alive and healthy. I am grateful that all my chicks are well and that my friends and family are alive and kicking. But going back to work tomorrow feels a little too soon. Not because I dislike work but because I want that smell of coconut sun cream and grains of sand in my underwear.

Next year eh?

Jeni Barnett tells of her scrumptious time at Good Food Live in her first audiobook! Download NOW from iTunes

Comments

1. At January 4, 2010 8:06 PM mrs jones wrote:

Oh dear, I think you mean Iris Murdoch!

2. At January 5, 2010 10:01 AM hymie wrote:

A very happy New Year Jeni and all who contibute to this blog. Mrs Jones, was there any need to correct our dear host? I think not. Did you learn nothing from our responce to your comments last year? NB. I think I've spelt each word correctly, if not, please don't bother to let me know as I think I can live with it!

3. At January 5, 2010 7:50 PM Anonymous wrote:

Ah, Mrs Jones, play nice, eh?

4. At January 6, 2010 10:33 AM Kirsten wrote:

Happy New Year to you, dear Jeni & to all who read & comment on your blog. Yes, I include you, Mrs Jones, in the hope that a little of our goodwill will attach itself to you in 2010. Your continuous corrections may seem amusing to you, but to the rest of us, they border on rudeness & are, therefore, thoroughly unnecessary.

Jeni, have you ever read 'The Artist's Way' by Julia Cameron? She has some very interesting ideas about training yourself to write on a daily basis. She advises 'morning pages', which you do as soon as you wake up - because it takes approximately forty minutes for the ego/'inner critic' to wake up. They're not meant to be part of your 'serious writing', but a sort of random, stream of consciousness, daily routine.

Love & light.

Copyright 2007, Jeni Barnett. Website produced by Chopstix.