Dear Reader, it's that time to admit I'm on the naughty list. Are you? Though I've always felt that they naughty list always had the best drinks.
Where to begin? It's been a busy week. It's almost Christmas. To the confessional--
I confess it's hard to be creative when there are Christmas songs playing in the background. For me, Christmas songs kill poems. If I want to write, I need to turn off the Christmas music, otherwise poems will be filled with chestnuts, bows, and snowflakes. All which is fine, but at some point Santa and his reindeer try to make an appearance in the poem ruining everything.
I confess this is the hardest time to write for the above reason as well as my house looks as if elves have gone slam-dancing through it. It is beyond cluttered and messy. Plus, I over-decorated this year. I just started pulling things out of boxes and placing them on shelves. It is not Martha Stewart. It is Scary Spice.
I confess despite the above, I am writing. It is hard to write, but I am keeping with my good retreat habits (I confess I went this morning on Facebook after many days without it - though I confess I wasn't really missing anything.) I write first thing in the morning which is new for me, I used to write only at night. I am amazed how much you can get done and then know you've written for the day.
It's hard to write this time of year, but not impossible. I confess I have to work at it. I confess I have to turn down the Christmas songs and turn down my mind of things I need to do, but I do try to write. It keeps me sane. It keeps me off the naughty list.