Today really feels like work.

For the most part, The Peacock King and its related microgalaxy of projects is my hobby.  At least, that's the way it's been for ages; I wrote when I felt like it, drew when I felt like it, and worked on the wiki when I felt like it.  The most effort I expended was nagging at Irk to write, an effort that has paid off well, if I do say so myself.

Lately, though, the game has changed for me.  Infernal Shenanigans is now my bread-and-butter, and what used to be my collection of fun little hobbies is suddenly also my job.  For the most part, it's not so bad; it's not like drawing taxes me much when I have to just churn it out, especially given the way I have constructed my workflow so that I can spin several plates, depending on which mode my brain is in at that given moment.  Writing, though... writing is different.

It's harder, for starters.  I can pick up any sort of mark-making device and scribble at any time.  In fact, I'm notorious for my habit of doodling while on the phone, and have had a few phone-doodles turn into full-fledged drawings.  I can't just open a document and write... well, I can (and have), but the results aren't usually anything I'd be willing to share with the general public.  Call it the text version of Gerald's doodles (although, to be fair, I'm rather certain that my word-doodles are a lot less dangerous to the stability of reality than Gerald's doodles).  I'm also a lot more forgiving about sloppiness and general yick in my drawings than I am writing.  Hell, I've posted scraps to dA that, had they been the written equivelant, I wouldn't have even bothered to save.

In spite of those misgivings, I've managed to land myself in a position where I have to write, no matter what my brain says about it, or how loud the kids are being that day, or how much (or how little) tea I've managed to consume.  (As of right now, 15:16 Pacific, I have had 4 cups of White Ayurvedic Chai and 1 glass of ... that peach flowering tea Irk bought and I can't remember its name.  I am about to go for a cup of Mate Vana, which means I'll probably end up drinking another.)  Part of writing this entry is trying to warm myself up and get that flow of characters a-marchin' across the screen, and another part is to track just what the hell keeps distracting me from writing.  

I feel warmed up, and can now happily report that I am being distracted by the following things:

• My kids
• Urgent biological needs (I've been drinking A LOT of tea, if you haven't noticed)
• Desire for more tea
• Unordered lists
• The urge to work on this commission some more, despite the issue with the hands throwing me into a tizzy and requiring MORE TEA to keep me calm
• Gmail (damn you, G-Labs!)
• Housekeeping (even though I STILL haven't scrubbed the toilets... hey, suddenly I want to write more!  WIN!)

Now that all that is (un)sorted out, I can start un-distracting myself and get to work.

With the exception of my kids.  Not much I can do about that except peck away in between taking care of them until the blessed little creatures are in bed.