There are days when I can write a 2,000-word essay in one sitting, no problem, and then there are days when I struggle to get a single coherent sentence out.
Welcome to being a writer. This shit’s hard.
I can’t compare the good days to the bad ones. Expecting myself to write a 2,000-word essay before I’ve put down a single sentence will prevent me from being able to write anything at all.
Take this morning, for example. I’m tired. I just moved to a new city and am having some significant challenges with my living situation. I’m stressed about money, getting a job, and finding a roommate. Because I’m unemployed, I expected this to be a prolific writing period for me, but the stress of figuring out my situation has been interfering with that. I’m managing to get these sentences out, but the masterful and profound 2,000-word essays will have to wait.
And that’s fine. I can only do what I can do.
This is also the first time that I’ve sat down to write in over a week because of how life got in the way. I normally write at least three times a week. Coming back to the page after a dry spell is tough. I no longer have a routine. The words don’t flow as easily. They’re buried deeper inside. It’s more work to reach in and pull them out, and when I do, there’s more gunk on them to clean off, but hey, at least I’m writing.
My expectations for myself as a writer often don’t align with reality, so I make do with what I have. I always give it my best. Sometimes, my best is 2,000 words, and sometimes, it’s just two.