I got up early today and yesterday, too. I get up early most days, but that’s when I work on stuff for my business because it’s the only time I can get anything done. Today and yesterday, however, I got up early to work on my book.

I didn’t get very far either time: I needed to reread the 150-odd pages I have already written and get back into the feel of things. What I read so far is pretty good, and I can’t believe I abandoned it for so long. There have been many things to do in the rest of my life, however, and getting my business up and running has been chief among these. My business is still not up and running, really, but it’s much closer. Things have been falling into place with startling ease in the past week, and yesterday, after I finished writing (or preparing to write), I got about a week’s worth of work done in one afternoon.

My husband’s mother’s boyfriend’s sister, Holly, who is also a writer but a famous one, said that I am throwing barriers up to getting my real writing done. The working for money part is fine, she advised, but all of the other obligations I take on have got to fall by the wayside if I ever want to accomplish anything in life. I hope she doesn’t mean going to the gym, because I’m about to start going to the gym again. It’s the only way to injure myself sufficiently that I spend all my free time at the rolfer and the acupuncture trying to heal the unspeakable pain that wracks my body. That oughta eat up all my spare time.

Oh, and then there’s this blog. And my other blog. And my other other blog, the secret one I haven’t started posting yet.

Either I’ve got to get up earlier still or stop going to bed altogether.