Now before you all start thinking, "Gee she wasn't lying. See how quickly she fell off the blogging bandwagon", you should know that I've just spent the last four days in Port Douglas attending a friend's wedding and had no internet access.
I took my laptop with me with the intention of getting some writing done, but the truth is that sometimes writers have to live life in order to write about it. With the brilliant sunshine and relaxed coastal ambience by day, and fine-dining and a cohort of my partner's work colleagues to socialise with at night, I just didn't get anything done.
Much as I am desperate to finish my various works in progress, the older I get the more I realise that if writing feels like a chore, the best thing to do is set it aside and get on with the task of living.
Over the weekend my 11-week-old daughter delighted us with her first serious giggle (upon seeing a ceiling fan in motion for the first time) and, incredibly, cried for less than 2 minutes on either of the three-hour plane trips we made. My friend and his radiant bride were married in a bushland setting and had their first dance as man and wife barefoot in the dust, lit only by the moon and a string of Chinese lanterns. My partner got a much deserved break from being a breadwinner (and had a hangover to show for it) and I left my laptop in its bag, my camera in its case, my blog unattended, and my mind free to wander whimsically.
I didn't get a word written, but I feel so much more human for it.
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