Will I ever learn?

Like everyone else, I took time off over Christmas to do the usual mother/family sort of things. I also slept late and luxuriated in a little reading too... heaven. But once the big day had come and gone, a little voice in the back of my mind started to nag me... get back to work, Colette, you know it's time.
As always I came up with numerous things that needed doing first. Also, the children were still on holidays. What kind of a mother would I be if I neglected them and shut myself away?
I conveniently ignored the fact that not only were there chunks of the day when they were oblivious of my presence as they lost themselves in their computer games, there were also chunks when I was reading and not writing.
And so, finally, grudgingly, I bit the bullet and took up my laptop, determined not to even take a peak at Facebook or Twitter.
I have to tell you those first few pages were like blood from a stone but before long I stopped looking longingly at the clock and became absorbed in the storyline, my fingers flying across the keyboard.
I had rediscovered the joy of losing myself in a different world, one of my own creation and it really is a joy.

As a control freak, one of the things I love most about being a novelist is that what happens or, indeed, what doesn't, is all completely in my hands. Bliss.

I suppose it's fait to say that I love my job. So why do I always have to remind myself of that fact when I've taken a break or am faced with that horrendous blank page?

Perhaps I should put a sign up on the wall in front of my desk:
YOU LOVE THIS JOB!!!
Would I heed it do you think? Probably not. I'd find some reason not to sit down and get stuck in. I always have and I imagine I always will.

On the plus side, while I know I will continue to jump at any excuse to run away from the day job, there is comfort in knowing that I will always, always come back.