How is it that even with topics like commercial real estate, in which I have plenty of confidence in my abilities after writing about it for 10 years, it still feels sometimes like a long, slow slog through thick pea soup to make my deadline?
Granted, I was out of the office for a day and a half at a conference after being out sick for a day and a half. But, I did some writing at home the last three days so that I wouldn't be behind, so I fully expected when I got to the office this morning that I'd turn one story in by 10 a.m. and the other by 2 p.m. My deadline is noon on Wednesdays.
Instead, I turned in the first story well after noon and struggled to get the second one in at 5:20 p.m. I don't know what happened, other than I overestimated my capabilities, once again.
The fortunate thing about writing for a weekly newspaper, besides the fact that my editor has a couple of days to read my stories before they go to print, is that I have a new set of deadlines next week to show that I am able to turn stories in on time.
Inevitably, though, some new obstacle will come up next week to keep me from being as efficient as I would like. People will wait until the last minute to get back to me. I'll be holding out for some particular piece of data to finish my industrial market forecast. Or, as happens sometimes, my brain will stop working and I will struggle to string words and facts together coherently.
All I can do to combat any of those foes is set out on a path, one foot in front of the other, and keep climbing uphill into the headwind.
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