A dense freezing fog painted the trees white. Even though the thermostat read 70 degrees, a simple look out the window gave me a chill. At the end of the day, I crawled into bed and nestled under the covers expecting a reprieve from the dreary cold.
Sleep Socks
I lay there, as I often do, impatient for sleep. I plumped my pillow and closed my eyes from the bedside clock’s illuminated display. I turned on my side and waited. Sleep didn’t come. I tossed. I turned. My toes were icicles that refused to warm up. 
I rose, careful not to wake my softly snoring husband. Rummaging through my sock drawer I found what I was looking for: elastic gone, holes in both heels, wool socks that looked ready for the rag bag.
I pulled them on, twisting the socks so my toes didn’t find their way through the heel holes. These loose-fitting socks were my antidote to a sleepless, cold winter night. With warm toes, I fell quickly into dreamland.
Writing Practice
My writing practice needs the equivalent of those worn woolen socks. I’ve been stuck. It’s not writer’s block, just distraction after distraction. Health concerns, family drama, disturbing news of the day, there’s always something to take my attention away from writing. Like those socks ready for the rag bag, an imperfect solution will do.
Routine
I have sung the praises of routine in previous posts. Taking my own advice, 
I’ve returned to my local library’s weekly ‘quiet writing time.’ Last week I completed a scene in a short story I started months ago. This week, I worked on this post. Next week, I have to skip quiet writing for an appointment. But like holey socks, one missed session shows a flawed solution is better than no solution at all.
Quiet Writing
The point is to find what works. For me, rag-bag woolen socks help me sleep on winter nights. Routine is vital to finding my way back to my writing practice. Health concerns, family drama, and disturbing news of the day aren’t likely to go away. But most Wednesdays you will find me at my library’s quiet writing time, plugging away.
Share in the comments below routines that work for you.
2 Comments
Lynda Sather
Your analogy between the effectiveness of imperfect but cozy socks and an imperfect but effective writing routine was, well, effective! I like writing in my own house in the morning after coffee and NYT word games but before the busy-ness and mental fatigue of the afternoon sets in. My morning routine, such as it is, is often disrupted by other things (like responding to your thoughtful blog) but like you say, it’s okay to have an imperfect routine as long as your have one!
Mary Krakow
So glad you’re sticking to a routine. Keep it up!