Anything and everything but writing

So far today, I've sent my first, okay second, novel off to two different agents. I'm now researching a few more, to see if I can hit four submissions today, but I'm getting bored with that, and the internet is not being very helpful.

It's mostly uninspiring. I lost an hour or so at Buzzfeed and got lost listening to Pandora while scrolling through Facebook. Saw some cat and dog images. Funny. Cute. Yawn.

So I decided to write instead, which means that I baked cookies and ate them instead. Now I'm drinking diet coke, happy the children saved me from more cookies, sad I ate all the Twizzlers I had stashed in my desk drawer. I could eat the bubble pop lollipop...

I decided looking up agents online is fraught with distractive peril in my current mood, so I decided to go old-school 'Guide to Literary Agents' book, but then got distracted by all the articles in it before you get to the agents. So I went back to online research, but got stuck on writer's digest's twitter feed, thinking the last thing I'm going to do is submit to a new agent accepting clients that just got posted on a twitter feed with a following of like, every writer.

I'm thinking I should stop writing the story I want to read and write romance. Or I could write a story about a cheeky new 20-something trying to make it in the world. Yawn. Or not.

I'm back to writing the story I want to read. Except now I'm distracted by Andy Weir's short stories and I'm thinking I could start writing short stories and post it on my blog. I've got one in mind. I should write that. Or the novel I'm actually writing.

It's a bit ridiculous, isn't it? All this back and forth in my head, designed to get me to do anything, everything, anything and everything except the one thing that I set out to do, which is write the story I'm actually writing, because I'm stuck at a point and it's hard.

But I really like the short story I have in my head. It'll keep til tomorrow. I've already written the idea down.

Right now, though, I should leave the internet, take my diet coke, and head back to my story.