There is a little devil in me that hates for me to succeed. I have lived with this little devil all my life. This devil in my brain is a saboteur. Time and time again I get so close to wonder, so close to real creation then I change tacks and wander off to something else. Sabotaging myself. 
Yesterday was the day I was going to send my last piece of writing to my mentor for her to look at it and make notes before the final edit. The whole book of letters to my sister is ready except for my own piece. My own letter to my sister. The inspiration for the book. In fact the crux of the book.
I only have the tiniest of edits to do before I can release it.
So yesterday I went shopping. I collected books from all over the house and filled the book shelves in The Coupe. I ordered semen for the cows. I booked all the flights for John’s son to come home on leave. I ordered more chicks for a second run of chooks for the freezer. I shifted hay from one side of the barn to the other. I moved all the stock about the farm. I dug out the North door again. Then I rearranged my bedroom, rearranged the linen cupboard, I stripped the bed and then I did more laundry than a sane person should be doing. I threw out all the clothes I will never wear again and hauled the bags to the car. I sat in the long grass and photographed animals.I weeded and watered into the night. I turned the volume up on my talking book (The Good House by Ann Leary. So far it is a great listen). 
For the last two days I have done everything but write. I had to stop myself starting the endless work of booking my tickets to NZ in October. I must get onto that, My little devil said. I mean I really must!
I allowed my Little Devil to drag me down the road of sabotage. Maybe I had done enough I thought. Maybe it would be alright without another edit. Maybe it did not need that much polishing. No-one would mind surely. I am not that important. All the other letters are wonderful. I am little, no-one will notice. Punctuation is for sissies, said my little demon.
My little devil needs a good kick.
The book: Letters to My Sister must be brought into the light. Collecting all 63 of your beautiful letters to my sister about menopause is probably one of the most important things I have ever done. The art department is already at work. The printers are being priced. All we need is for me to finish my letter and then write my bio. So I am going to take the next two days off from the blog and I am going to rewrite the bloody thing then send it to my darling mentor.
Starting now.
There. No more sabotaging myself right at the cusp. I need to break that cycle. I have you now.
Your friend
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
60 responses to “Sabotage”
My apartment in college was never so clean as when I was supposed to be studying for an exam. I know how you feel! Good luck on finishing the “last little bit!”
Nancy
http://www.workingmomadventures.com
You got some great shots, though, and a lot accomplished, though, while you were avoiding writing your piece.
Your photography has gone another level, c, just stunning! Good luck with your letter.. sending you lovely creative thoughts across the prairies and over to you! Your work will be stunning and heartfelt, as it always is!
Displacement activity… looking back I was good at it although I thought it was just a strategy produce my best work under pressure at the last possible moment. At least after your solid day of sabotage-displacement activities, and then getting on with it you will once it’s done be able to step forward into a new space ready for the next wonderful creative project.
Sigh… I’m doing it about the book, too. Have not sent you the release form. Keep thinking how ridiculous it would be to have a letter from me included in a book!
Susan you are not ridiculous. The book is a collection of very ordinary people. Just like us. Shall I write anonymous below your work? email me and tell me what you think, c