Sometimes, the parakeet gets a little balky.
No matter how much pop music I turn on and sing along with, no matter how many bits of his favorite seeds I sprinkle around myself like a giant birdy cupcake, no matter how much coaxing and smoochy-smooching I do, he just won't sit on my shoulder while I'm writing.
Yes, part of that is because when the garage door opened, a big bug ran over my leg and I jumped up screeching and accidentally kicked his cage and lurched around like a drunk bear, and he had a total wiggins.
But the thing is-- parakeets, like writing, take time. They can't be forced, but they can't be neglected, either.
Some days, you get 5000 words down and feel like a boss. Some days, getting 500 words is like pulling teeth out with pliers. Your own teeth. And the pliers have motor oil on them. Hell, some days, you only get five words, and they're all the F word, because F the writing, that's why.
But you keep trying.
It came up in conversation last night that whatever you're doing right now is the best predictor for what you'll be doing in five minutes. So whether you're sleeping, working, cleaning, or zoned out on Hoarders, chances are, you'll be doing the same thing in five minutes, because human beings are programmed for inertia. I mean, it makes sense. A cave girl who was working to stay alive would need to forage and hunt and cook, and as soon as the work was done, she would sit down and zone out to conserve the calories for which she had worked so hard.
But when you apply it to everyday life in 2012, it means that if I'm idly browsing boots and watching Twitter debates on dream casting for Outlander, I'll probably be doing it in five minutes, and then five minutes after that, and then nothing gets done and the day is over and I have nothing to show for it and feel like a zombie.
That's why even when the words don't come, I try. Even when the bird won't sit on my shoulder, I'm singing to him. And starting today, I'm going to make more of an effort not to waste time doing nothing when I could be dedicating myself to doing something.
In short, I will now fight inertia like a knight jousting on an ostrich.
If inertia is not budging, then by God, I will budge.