This morning I got up fairly promptly (if 9 am can be considered prompt), hopped through the shower and got out of the apartment. I’ve discovered that if I’m going to have any hope of getting some writing done by noon that I have to leave my apartment, or a constellation of small tasks will pull me into their orbit.
I walked with purpose over to La Colombe and grabbed a table that had an electrical outlet underneath it so that I wouldn’t be limited by the fairly short battery life of my computer. I went up to the counter, got a cup of coffee and walked back to “my” table. Just as I was about to sit down, I noticed that sitting directly across from my spot was a friend. She had her back turned to the room and was reading a book, moving a mug from table to mouth and back without looking at it. I put my own coffee down and sat in the chair next to her, saying “Christy!” so that I wouldn’t scare her too badly by just appearing.
I met Christy through the Unitarian church back when I first moved to Philly and we’ve been friends now for going on five years. Often times a chunk of months will pass between the times we see each other, but I’ve found that just when I’ve started to miss her, she’ll pop back up in my life at a coffeeshop, outside of Trader Joe’s or in the middle of Rittenhouse Square.
We sat and chatted for about ten minutes before I started to feel the story tug at me. I said reluctantly, “I’ve really got to get going on my work, but it was fantastic to see you.” She returned my enthusiasm and we made tentative plans to meet up for lunch sometime soon.
I love how many times I’ve run into friends unexpectedly lately. It’s added a whole lot of joy to my life.
Oh, by the way, I finished the chunk of the story that I needed to write. Which means that in the last ten days, I’ve written exactly 40 pages of fiction. A year ago I would have been paralyzed at the mere though of it. I am continually astounded by my capacity for change and growth.
Wow, what discipline to leave a perfectly good conversation to get back to the task at hand. Is it maturity? Discipline? A love to write? Regardless, I need some of it.
It was a combination of time pressure and a basic enjoyment of the story I was working on. You might also qualify those things as maturity. Who knows!
Excellent. When I was doing schoolwork, (just last year, actually) I found that I had to get out of the house, too. My spot was the local library, just far enough away to be out but not too far. It was like a switch would turn on as soon as I got settled in. Longhand, I would scrawl out pages almost as fast as I could think.
Somehow, I manage to blog at home. Perhaps because I’m not being graded for it!
you have had some good luck recently with the reconnections.
for me when it came to school work, I needed a radio and a blank room. The library put me to sleep and I am easily distracted in public, like a cat watching birds.
what were we talking about?