Well, I managed to wrangle a work day today...a whole day to get some projects tidied up and finish something. It's amazing how they nag at you when you leave them sit too long. Some days the whispering of things unfinished can be ignored, and some days its a dull roar that interrupts just about any attempt to procrastinate.
And, trust me, I'm a world class procrastinator.
But today, I'm working. Really. Blogging counts too. And I get to thinking, when I'm jonesing for a work day, how much tone and perception can change a word's meaning. I love my work. I beg for time to do it. I covet working hours like they were covered in Belgian chocolate. I use the term "my work" to signify my art, my books, the product of my labor. I also use it to indicate the activity that I love, writing. I want to work. Can I have some time to work today? Oh, man, I need to work.
Can you relate?
I used to use the word like profanity. Man, I gotta go to work. What are you doing today? I have to work. The weight of that single word could bring a whole cascade of depression down on the stoutest of shoulders.
In art school, a student was encouraged to produce a "body of work." You said, this is my work with pride in your voice.
It's all in the tone. But today, I GET to work, and I'm tickled as hell about it. Even with a moment away to blog, I'll finish this novella before dark. phew. On to the next work...and on.
I showed my husband my notes. Half way through the story's timeline the pen marks get messy. There are scribbles, extra layers, crammed-in letters. I said to him, "Hey, do you suppose this is a good sign? Does it mean my plot is thickening?"
His answer: "It looks to me like you're powerful confused."
Perspective is everything. Chin up folks, keep your tone joyful. I'm back to work.