Yesterday I had a big day. After school drop off (which I do not do!) I ate breakfast, got dressed and plonked myself in front of my computer. That sounds weird. That sounds like I was hitting myself up with cheap wine at breakfast time. As entertaining as it would be to imagine me sloshing about in the mid-morning, I was not. Rather I was dramatically sitting down on the couch with a relaxed yet determined flourish. That kind of plonk. Not a carafe in sight, I swear. No gingham tablecloths. No bread baskets. No cutlery wrapped impossibly tight in paper napkins. Nope. Get your plonks straight.
My plonk went like this: For five and a half hours, while the kidlets were tucked up at school, the room stood still and quiet, and I wrote stuff for a new book. It was so still and quiet and stuff-y that I forgot to go to the bathroom, move, drink tea (or water), eat.... I just kept writing. Not only was it still and quiet and stuff-y, it was a bit stinky too. The smell of an unfortunate mouse languishing inaccessibly under the floorboards finally jerked me from the plonky zone, reminding me that TIME was indeed still ticking and it was not 9.30 any more. It was 2.45 and 2.45 smelled like mouse. It also looked remarkably like school pick up time. Imagine that.
I am a bit of a fan of that kind of plonk. The kind that swallows time and stinky mouse smell, and it was a REALLY great plonk, because I got so much done. So much that I needed to use italics there. (You need to read that bit with your eyes a bit squinty, shaking your head disbelievingly to illustrate the point. Or perhaps you are doing that because italics are hard to read in this font. Whichever it is, you are totally feeling this, aren't you?)
This plonk day, I was on a roll. I got lots of good words out and I felt so happy and accomplished and pleased at the end of it. Also I felt tired and hungry and busting to pee. Sorry. At least I did not say plonk there. That would be gross. Does this ever happen to you? Not the pee bit. Not the unsavoury kind of plonk bit. But the losing time, getting in the zone, not coming up for air, making progress bit? It's kind of like having a really satisfying meal, without the cooking, food or dirty dishes... instead you dine on paragraphs and letters and numbers. Well. It's probably not like that really. Some letters are quite pointy and would be hard to swallow. What I am trying to say it's really feel-good to have those kind of exhausting great days. Does that make sense? Despite the starving, thirsty bustingness, it felt really rad to achieve stuff.
(Do you know, when I work in a big, obsessive block like that, I seem to be less inclined to write something over here, too. It's kind of like I have totally filled my quota of happy words and I can't even think about typing even one more full stop. Or exclamation mark. Yes. That is more appropriate. Perhaps it is called being Plonked Out.)
What do you think? Do you think PLONK and BLOG are stupid words for great things? Do you ever feel like I do? Or do you feel like you do? How do you feel?!
xx Pip
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