I failed The Magic Spreadsheet god this weekend by not paying my tribute of words. The weird things is, I feel really bummed about missing the days. For twelve days, I consistently wrote… something. Whether it was on a NaNoWriMo project, blog post or notes on a novel, I wrote and placed the words on the altar of Google for the Magic Spreadsheet accept favorably. But this weekend was filled with distractions and issues of the technical kind and my attention was more focused on things other than appeasing the spreadsheet. When I looked up, it was past midnight. Saturday, became Sunday, which melted into Monday and now there are two empty cells where my words should have been. Empty cells like the empty eyes of a spreadsheet that has been denied its due. I looked at the spreadsheet and the spreadsheet looked back at me with the disapproving look a parent would give a child.
And here I sit, with my head hung low, disappointed in my failure to win favor of the The Magic Spreadsheet. Those two empty cells will always be a reminder of my shortcomings, but I must push on. As I type this post, I think about the next chapter of my NaNoWriMo novel. There, are words to be counted there. I think about writing another post about a favorite productivity tool. Surely three hundred words right there. My inspiration continues to grow with each set of new words I write. Maybe if I could open the vein of my creativity and spill more words on the page in offering, I can find my way back from being a slacker.
But The Magic Spreadsheet in an insatiable beast.