Wednesday, 11/19/14 9:58 a.m.

The Wrimoer was starting her writing session as soon as she had finished her breakfast. It was a glorious but cold sunny day out. She sat in the sunny bay window. The night before she had done a mad writing stint and gotten over 3000 words written. She assumed it might be harder to get going on the project in the morning because she would probably feel oversaturated from having not that many hours since she had last been writing. Now it seemed as if the huge accomplishment just spurred her on. She had had to overcome quite a resistance the day before just to get started on the work. She had been so sure she would barely manage any writing. Instead she had managed so much. Not that she had written anything of consequence. 

On this morning she decided she would once again try the wireless keyboard she had bought this summer for her tablet device. She had been meaning to try it for the Nanowrimo project to use while out and about. The thought of using it though only brought up concerns of how did one handle both the tablet and the separate keyboard? She realized as she considered this now, that the problem of handling the two together was more because she could not work easily on the tablet at any table where she had to raise her arms up to the table height to type. When she was using the tablet she was also usually on wifi. Her vision of it all presumed that context.

Writing did not require being on wifi, unless one wanted to use the dictation app. That did not work well though, so she was less inclined to use it. On Monday she had packed the keyboard for use at the library after her adult art class. She had come right home and never got to try working the keyboard for her Nano project. Later when she got home, she discovered the keyboard with its light on. She kept the keyboard wrapped in a bubble wrap mailing envelope with keyboard written in large letters across one side of the envelope. She tried to keep it so that the keys would not get pressed. In this case she could see the little green 'on' light shining through the bubble wrap envelope. How long had it been on for? One could only turn it on from one end of it. It was a flat button that she had been hard put to find and figure out. One could hardly even see the little green light when it was on and the keyboard was out in the open.

Much as she had wanted to try working with the keyboard, she now also had not been able to see how she could now work on the Nano project without the newfound tool of seeing the word count at the bottom of her writing. A new realization came to her though after she had gotten caught up with her spreadsheet writing accounting. She now had a fairly good idea of her writing speed. It should not be that hard to just work by the time spent writing. She was still averaging 20-21 words per minute.

10:21 am

She had only to make note of the time periodically. She could also set the timer and use that as times for stopping and noting the time. And, she could use the stopwatch timer on her other phone, to keep track of actual minutes spent on task. She had completely forgotten about that. These were all just strategies to make the process a bit fun for a while just to get oneself through to a point where one associated the activity with an aspect of pleasure rather than as an onerous task. None of these things were really necessary. That was fine. 

The sun on her was getting very hot. She was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt. It just soaked up the sun's heat feeling as if it could catch on fire. 15 feet away, the propane gas heater was running. Its thermostat had to be somewhere close to the western wall of the building. The sun was not hitting there yet, but the winds were blowing from the west or the northwest. At least they were not as fierce or unremitting as they had been through the night.

She had gone downstairs before bedtime the previous evening, to try one last time to get the cat in from the cold. He had not answered her whistle. Neither had his rival. This morning the cat came running madly from the porch of the neighbor to the north of her. He often waited up there. There was something he jumped down from. One of these days she would go look to see just where it was he waited. She thought he was keeping an eye on the squirrels that hung out around the apple tree just off the porch. The apple tree also had a big bird feeder in it.

10:35 am. She thought maybe now she was feeling a bit queer from sitting in the heat of the sun and the heat blasting. The tablet was also not very good to keep looking at because of the glare of it. She had kept it sitting on top of her shins with her legs raised up on a chair ahead of her own chair. It was really time to stand up carefully though.

10:39 am 41 minutes

3:38 pm resume (briefly?)

That had been a huge break. Now she was carefully avoiding looking at the screen, and because she had the cat in her lap, she was holding the keyboard in one hand and typing with one finger of the other hand. She could only hope the typing was coming out properly. She had been writing in her notebook journal, for nine pages, about two hours worth. This not looking at the screen was how she used to type long ago in her job as an office person in an architectural and engineering company. The computer screen there was just too big for her vision. Too big and too close. She had to look elsewhere as she wrote. One was supposed to look at the manuscript one was transcribing. She had had to keep herself quite turned away from the screen. That was what she was trying to do now. It felt so odd not to be able to check her writing. At least she was now working with several fingers. The cat had just jumped off her lap. She could use two hands again. That was a bit of relief. If one did not even look at the keyboard, one had to rely one one's memory to know what letter one had last written. This was such and odd feeling. She supposed it was like Helen Keller’s talking by using the signing alphabet into people’s hands. Keller had had to do the whole thing not just by touch but also by memory. What a phenomenal task to remember spellings of words in that way. One's experience of reading was different than one’s experience of writing. Now the Wrimoer was trying to balance the keyboard on one leg. That did not work very well.

She had spent her afternoon partly trying to figure out what made the Nano project so compelling, and writing about that in her journal. She had done writing about it though. She was not willing to share it in her Nano writing yet, if ever. That would mean having to tell it all over again. It would have to wait until the desire, the impulse, to do so came up again.

She had also written everything she could remember about the podcast she had listened to on the previous day. This was an interview with a motivational speaker who was quite wealthy from all the businesses he had started and apparently marketed so well that they all made a lot of money. This speaker was a very fast glib speaker. He was a slick salesman. Everything he said sounded like it made sense. She too had been very persuaded in all the things he had said. It seemed as if there was a lot to learn from what he said. 

There were several points she had forgotten to include. She had probably even written about this in her huge writing stint of the previous day.  She had forgotten to include the ideas of learning to add value wherever one could. In one's own abilities and skills. In working with others. Then there was the question of getting that value out to as many people as possible. Serve value to as many people as possible, whether you do it for free or for pay. It was an important concept to embrace. He might have talked about the gratitude concept that was so big with everyone in these times. It was almost a fad. The point there was to focus on what one had instead of all that one was missing, or how someone had done one wrong. One had to get on with it. Stop wasting time on losses. Accept these things and move on. 

 There was the idea of using tax savings to keep more of one's earnings and that one needed to consider that in looking at the earnings one made. It was not how much one made, but how much one kept of how much one made.  That was another matter of understanding the math of anything. People were seduced by the stories of things instead of looking at the real math of a thing. But that only mattered *** where one was concerned with matters of numbers and monies. She thought it might be better to attend to what one loved. Not the things one loved, but what one loved doing and being. One could never have real happiness from one's things. One could have happiness from one's experiences and one's doings, and one's beingness.

4:07 pm 31 minutes

She had thought she might go indulge in going to the fast food place. The last time she was there, it had been cold out, and it was cold where she sat. The burger she ate did not taste right. She was still imagining burgers as she remembered the tasting instead of the way they were actually tasting. She might go anyway. A salad sounded good to try.

And if the bank deposit had not been picked up from the mail slot yet, she could perhaps take care of that. She would have to leave soon though, if she wanted to do the banking. 

She did decide that she had to make herself do something like the writing or like art immediately the day after her teaching day. She needed to try to make a habit of this. It seemed this would be the only way to overcome that big weekly clock that rolled around. If she let a day go by before she made anything for herself, it was too easy to put it off. She needed to get that under her belt right away for the week. 

Writing was a strange sensation in this manner. She was also doing it with her eyes closed and expecting to be able to open them and peek at the screen to check whatever she knew she had mistyped. It was always a shock to open her eyes and see no screen there. 

It also made the writing different. If she knew she had written a word she did not want, she had to let it go because she could not back track enough to fix it properly. She would have to hope she would be able to catch up with it later. 

She supposed one would do one round of corrections just using a spell check. One always had to be careful there as one might not notice one had properly spelled the wrong word.

She had eaten too much candy the day before in her watercolor class. One of the students always brought candy. This happened to be leftover Halloween candy. Not the tiny bars she had been bringing, but much bigger candy bars. The Wrimoer had eaten one whole one and then the remains from the other student's. She had had almost two whole bars. Way too much candy for one day.

The sun was down, the day turning to dusk. She had no idea how much she had gotten done towards her writing goal.

4:24 pm 17 minutes c. 1869 words est.?  Actual count -2100!

Spell & grammar checked later in Word. There is a word I saw during the check that got bypassed, (as I had predicted) but I know I don’t want it. No idea how to find it now.