I have RMS. It’s a second-cousin of Restless Legs Syndrome. This one is Restless ME Syndrome and it has one cause: forced separation from my WIP.
Last Sunday I finished my first draft of TBALMCSAP. ~*Hooray*~!
But then comes the waiting… I like to think waiting two weeks between writing the last word on a draft and beginning revisions gives me a bit of detachment and objectivity.
Or, I like to think that when I’m NOT in the two week waiting period. Waiting stinks. Stinks like sixth graders post-recess in May.
I’m itching to crack open the file. I’m craving the feeling of my purple editing pen against still-warm-from-the-printer pages.
And I’m telling myself: no. wait. be patient. (Apparently I don’t know myself very well)
So what do I do in the meantime? There are still 7 more days ‘til I’ll let myself play with TBALMCSAP again; I need something to fill up the hours that normally would have been spent defining the W in WIP.
I signed up for BEDA. I stocked up on books. I made the haircut appointment I’ve been forgetting to schedule since October. I’m attacking piles of grading. I’m in negotiations with my ankle about running without pain. I’m heading to NYC tomorrow to see an A-squad of writers (which, let’s be honest, is only going to make me more anxious to tackle TBALMCSAP). I’m filling hours and counting them down.
But mostly, I’m driving St. Matt nuts because the only real cure for RMS is writing.
Seven days…
Suggestions/ Distraction Fairies welcome.