I should be writing. I mean, like, actually working on my manuscript. I feel like such a fraud. There are the excuses -- I just started a new job, American Idol was on last night and is on again tonight, my husband is looking over my shoulder (when he isn't hogging the laptop.) Then, there is the reality: in 2010, nothing has changed. I still don't write every day. I can't even churn out 500 little words with daily regularity. Here we are, 1/12 of the way through a new year, and I haven't really accomplished much at all in the I-wanna-be-a-writer department. The old Amber would call herself predictable and let the disappointment fester. Ohh, yeah. That's so me. There I went again, not following through on my promises to myself. I'll never change. I suck at life. But, do you know what I just said to the old Amber? I said, Shut up, old Amber. Who cares? It doesn't matter what you haven't done. Just start doing it. Now. I don't of...
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