Good Intentions

         Last Friday I had a sleep study done. A number of years ago (8? 10?) I had had one done initially. My snoring is notorious, and has been the case since I was a teenager and rail-thin, so fat is not the only issue (although it is exacerbated by the layer of lard I've become so fond of). Over the years, I've gotten used to the CPAP machine--with the long hose that accompanies it--but my doctors felt I needed to be "recalibrated."

         If you've never had the pleasure, they hook you up, using a gross of electrodes. You're in a room with a comfortable bed, a television, a tiny restroom. Oh, you have to void?  Don't forget to take along your huge "box" of electrical something-or-others, that keeps all the electrodes straight. That is, until they hook you up for real...After that, you'll have to get permission to pee.

         And then, they give people (who have paid for their admission tickets) access to the "observation room," where the techs are sitting, monitoring the studies and the cameras. You think you're safe, because it's dark? Don't get too secure--they have special cameras that can see everything despite the darkness, kind of like those night-vision goggles worn in "Silence of the Lambs." Popcorn is nibbled on, slushies are slugged, and everyone in the audience gets to laugh at the varied and hilarious snoring that goes on...

         They ask you what time you want to go to sleep. I said "between 10 and 11, and probably more like 11." That's the case every Friday evening. I have great intentions of staying up, because sometimes, I can sleep past 5 on Saturday morning. The idea of kicking up my heels and being up late is thrilling. However, my body is rarely able to fulfill those intentions. Usually, around 9:30 or so I'm drooling and snoring on the couch, missing out on all the wild antics I had planned. I've gone all week without enough sleep; my body finally crashes...

         And this was a normal Friday night. Somewhere before the clock had struck ten, I had already snorted myself awake. The technician came rushing in, and gave me the officiall hook-up. Within minutes, I was asleep.

        So it is with my writing. I have good intentions to live a more writerly life. I have the intention to write every day at the same time, to develop a real habit. However, what drives me most are deadlines. And I can't find a set time every day, so I eek out bits of time here and there.

         How about you? What are your intentions when it comes to writing or your creative life? How do you balance your intentions and the everyday muck of life?

         (Inquiring  minds want to know.)