It's Wednesday . . . "Where've you been?!"

 
I'm not exactly sure how I ended up going AWOL when Small Works should have been here "ringing in the new" with all of you, Dear Readers . . .

but there are several indicators that things have been a little off around here.  For one thing, it came to my attention (several days after the fact) that I had wished all of you a happy 2012 in the post I did manage to make.  I've been feeling a little disoriented, for heaven's sake, but not a full year off!

Then I noticed that I had used the same illustration twice over at Happy Thought.  It's getting a little trickier, now that I'm nearly 300 days into the project, and obviously my January-brain-mush is just barely up to the challenge.

Luckily, Santa saw fit to surprise me with this:

Some might be offended to receive a "happy light" from Santa; I, on the other hand, was delighted that Santa knows me so very well.  And I think we can all agree that a little extra light at this point can't hurt.


But wandering around in a fog has not made me immune  to considering all the possible avenues of self-improvement that are somehow so readily apparent at this time of year.  Of course there have been all of the usuals:

Hooray!  Vegetables!

and I'm pleased to report that it's already Wednesday and I haven't yet eaten a single cookie. (Of course, I started that particular goal on Monday, having exhausted every last crumb of the Christmas cookie supply on Sunday night, but I'm still viewing it as an accomplishment.)

And it may just be that the turning 

of the calendar to January 

triggered some kind of primal panic about the unmistakable menace of the looming Baltimore show, but I felt the best goal I could aim for this year would be more work.

And that would mean, of course, less time at my computer.  

Curiously, that is the goal I've seen mentioned most by persons of our particular ilk -- of course, I've seen that goal mentioned while perusing all my favorite blogs and clicking my way around facebook, which in and of itself points to the fact that I may not quite be ready to throw away the keyboard.

If only there were a pill that would allow me to keep surfing while the drug built up in my body
so I could quit g-r-a-d-u-a-l-l-y . . .

Never having had to quit smoking, I'm not sure whether that's an approach that actually works, but I am sure there would be money to be made with such an invention.

I did read about a new software program called Freedom that shuts off one's internet access for a designated time every day, perhaps the only possible solution for an artist such as myself who is helpless in the face of my addiction.


Time-wasting and procrastination were not invented with the internet, however, and I fear that as the internet so neatly replaced baking as my favorite delay tactic, something new would arise to fill the keyboard's hole just as quickly.

My favorite thing I've seen on the subject 
is an anecdote about Victor Hugo, 
who used to work in the nude, 
telling his valet to hide his clothes 
so as to prevent him from going outside 
when he was supposed to be writing.

That might be the only sure cure, seeing as how it is approximately ZERO degrees most of the time these days, and I would in no way be tempted to venture out without clothes.  But on the other hand, I could type blog posts au naturel and no one would be the wiser . . .

I know.  Bad visual.  

Sorry about that.   

Don't worry --  I'm just going to put this computer to sleep for awhile and try something novel like threading a needle (while remaining fully clothed).

Happy Worky-Wednesday!