I think someone famous said that, and I should be giving him/her credit, but I'm too lazy to google it.
I finally finished off a project that I've been wrestling with for the past month. It took me one week to get up enough energy to finish off the last two hours of edits. I just HAD to do a load of whites, because nobody had any underwear. I just HAD to write some blog posts, because they were on VERY IMPORTANT issues. I just HAD to make Moroccan salted lemons, because they were a KEY ingredient in a recipe that I wanted to make. Then I needed to make another batch of Moroccan salted lemons using an entirely different system, because I wasn't sure if the first method was correct.
Honestly, I don't even know what Moroccan salted lemons taste like. And I won't know for another month, because that's how long it takes to make Moroccan salted lemons. They have to sit in a jar full of salty lemon juice for a month before they are done. And, yes, I had to go out and buy the correct kind of jar for those Moroccan salted lemons.
I squeezed about twenty lemons this week. All to avoid two hours of edits.
I have no problem spitting out rough, typo-ridden first drafts. Evidence A = Apt. 11D. It's all the neatening up and tying together arguments and clarifying that I find so tiresome.
Well, it's done and now I'm celebrating. First, there will be loud music on the stereo. Second, there will be a flowery, rushing-the-season sort of dress. Third, there will be a car trip into Manhattan and some meat eatin' at Virgil's. Lent be damned.