I'm convinced, however much I might wish it otherwise, that I could never be a full time writer. There's a very simple reason for this. Whenever the whole day stretches ahead of me, empty apart from the promise of working on my stories - I will end up doing anything but.
Take yesterday, I got up particularly early, got all my wee jobs done, and settled to my laptop by 10.30am. There was very little else I needed to do apart from write. So did I? Did I knickers. This is especially annoying as there's a project I'm keen to finish. A long project. The end is in sight - I just need a final couple of bursts to get it done.
But, instead of getting to down to work, I surfed the net. I visited blogs. I read emails. At one point I even did some housework. And here we are, at the start of a brand new day, and nothing's been added to my project.
Sadly, I have to face the uncomfortable truth I write best when I should be doing something else. Surely that has to be the ultimate in procrastination?
So, today, I plan to finish my tax return. That should ensure I'll get some words written.