the sacrificial carrot

This weekend came with an awakening, an awakening of spirit but also of sacrifice.

The gods have offered a semblance of spring for the Northeast, and it feels amazing. It should anyway, but instead it is a carrot that I can’t quite reach. I’m sitting at my desk with the windows wide open. I am typing story outlines and notes while texts ping in the next room. And I know what they say.

“Hey what are you doing today?” “How about a walk in the park?” “It’s a gorgeous day for a stroll by water, don’t you think?” “Early dinner at my place?”

But I can’t go. I have deadlines. Commitments to my clients, commitments to myself. I’m committed to getting myself published, to having a byline of my own this year, and not one that I’ve posted on this blog but at a reputable publication online or off.

And I can’t do that with out a little sacrifrice to my free time, the idle time previously allotted for daydreaming, binge watching, online dating and reading. And, yes, even walking.

I moved my computer out to the terrace, the sun feels good on my face. The comings and goings of the neighborhood white noise. The wind and the cat are my only companions. I try not to think about the carrot and concentrate on the words.

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