If Making a Snow Penguin is Wrong, Then I Don’t Wanna Be Right

Today, I had a ton to do:

  • 1.5 hours of setting up my Etsy shop
  • 4 hours of painting
  • 7 hours of writing

So naturally, I took time out of my busy schedule to make a rather misshapen snow penguin named Hugo, after Victor Hugo of Hunchback of Notre Dame fame. (See aforementioned note re: misshapen-ness.)

To be clear: procrastination is always bad. Unless it involves a snow penguin. Then it’s very, very right.

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Ah, the twin hazards of being a freelance artist/writer: procrastination and performance anxiety.

As soon as I sit down at my watercolor block and pick up my brushes, I find myself convinced that the writerly muse has suddenly, decisively descended and I must return to my novel RIGHT. FRICKIN’. NOW.

The minute I pull up that chapter I’m re-writing for the second third fourth fifth time, my eyes sneak back toward my painting. I mean, is it really wise to give up the last good natural light of the day?

I think I might need a personal assistant. Just to set off the shock collar every time I think changing up activities every five minutes is a good way to be productive.

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