Perhaps. Not quite? I know this for sure: I don’t find myself needing to be reminded to write. My alarm to write is actually around lunch time but I always end up writing these posts at bed. I do wonder if changing or removing the alarm will erase the routine or somehow make my memory less effective. I don’t quite believe that it will but I wouldn’t really know.
So perhaps this is turning out to become a habit. Even if I’m not writing much else for myself at least I have this and progress is progress, as I say always. Although I am finding that lately I’ve been checking the word count just so I can hurry up and get it over with. So while I might not be jumping for joy at my self-imposed obligation, there’s an inkling of productivity which I will just be proud of.
A number of these, as you know, are kind of nonsensical and pointless. That doesn’t make them of less worth, I must remind myself. All my writing is worth something. No word I’ve written is less significant than the last. Every character has value. It could be poop but it’s gold to me.
Ruzelle Almonds 