The Proverbial Patting of the Back

I'm not one to go around patting myself on the back...oh hell, who am I kidding, yeah I am. Anyho, I just realized that it is two weeks shy of a year since my work office moved closer to my home, allowing me almost 2 blissful hours every morning to work on my writing, which considering the morning is my most productive writing time, has been a blessing. Before that, my writing was sporadic. Minutes grabbed here and there, ideas or scenes scribbled as they popped into my head, promises made that I would work on it after work, then arriving home brain dead from my mind numblingly boring day job unable to string enough words together to form a coherent sentence. I wasn't making nearly the progress I wanted to, the progress I had promised myself when I left my old job and made a few life changes geared towards making my writing a priority. Then the move, and the promise that I would rise every morning at 5:50 AM and write until the last possible minute before I had to leave for work (there was of course time alotted for showering, etc, because I am a creature of vanity and no way am I walking around looking like crap). It has been the one writing promise I have kept. Save for the odd power outage and a bout with the flu which made my head feel like it was being crushed in a vice, I have not missed a day. I have rediscovered my muse, and learned to write anyway on the days she didn't show up. I have found my groove, my writing mojo. Those two glorious hours in the morning, with java in hand and ideas, scenes, dialogue and delightful characters running around in my cranium, are my happy place. I can't imagine giving it up. Even my worst writing days are a million times better than my best workday. I can't wait to make it a full time gig. And I will, despite the odds. Go big, or go home, I say. I'm opting for the former.