Freedom's Just Another Word for Nothin' Left to Lose

I'm a writer who hasn't been writing much. Not here, not really anywhere. Of course, there's a long and involved backstory.

First of all, though Mr. Savant and I were legally and officially married last December, our wedding -- complete with ivory dress, bridesmaids, and an open-bar reception -- was held over July 4th weekend. So, needless to say, I'd been distracted pulling together the last minute details of that whole shebang.

Second, on June 19th, I fractured my left foot in two places (another long story) and have been immobilized and doped up on the loveliness of narcotic painkillers.

And third, but definitely not least, as of July 1, I no longer count Mr. Big as one of my clients. On June 29th, I got an email from Mr. Big's subordinate, my editor, stating the need to renegotiate my month-to-month contract. The terms of the proposed new contract basically amounted to twice the work, half the money, penalties if I did not deliver more than 1,000 words a day, and thus the complete elimination of any extra available time to work on projects for other clients.

So, I declined to renew my contract. The liberation and the happiness I feel because of this decision are ... I can't even put it into words. It's pretty fucking blissful, and that's not just the Vicodin talking.

I've reached out to a number of other contacts and have lined up a decent amount of work thus far, so I'm not quite as fearful as I used to be.

The problem is that I've been so excited in my freedom that I've taken to slacking off. Slacking off a hell of a lot. I've written a few pieces; lined up some additional projects over the next couple weeks, but mostly I've been cleaning my house, reading, watching HGTV and The Discovery Channel, and taking naps whenever I damn well feel like it.

The first two days I convinced myself that I was preoccupied with last-minute wedding plans. Last week I begged exhaustion from the whirlwind that was my wedding, the reception, and our micro-honeymoon in Cape May, NJ for two days. This week ... this week I have no excuse at all. I've just been lazy.

It's 11 pm on Wednesday night, and I haven't written a word all week -- at least not a word I get paid for. I did an interview today for a project, and I've lined up some more interviews for tomorrow. But I have deadlines fast approaching and no serious motivation to meet them.

I know this is my rebellious, immature self fighting against my own best interests. And I know, vaguely, that my mind needs to reset itself and 'heal' from the hell that was working for Mr. Big. But at some point, I have to put my foot down and just get on with it! I hope that point comes soon ...