"If I waited for perfection I would never write a word." --Margaret Atwood
In high school I'd fall asleep to the thundering of my mother's hands as I listened to her type her master's English thesis late into the night in the room above mine. Gone are the days of crinkled onionskin, which I pulled with a satisfying tug from the old typewriters we practiced on during 5th grade recess.
Today I played paper-pencil-pen in an effort to promote last week's new year goals. I bought a dry-erase calendar, an ascending file sorter, a few notebooks, highlighter pens, an array of colorful large paperclips. And more printer paper.
When I return from my birthday weekend on the coast I'll enjoy organizing my new desk supplies. Then formulating -- and sticking to -- the short-term goals (weekly, daily, hourly).
Still waiting for perfection...