6:00: Alarm goes off. Plan to get up and write.
6:30: Get up, but don’t write.
6:50: Household dynamics require that dogs be fed and taken outside before Indy Clause gets her coffee. Truly she can’t write without coffee. On the bright side she has read all of the morning’s grim news and can clear her mind to work. Or so she hopes.
7:15: Dogs and coffee are all sorted out.
7:16: “DOG 2, WILL YOU STOP CHEWING UP PAPER?! Sorry, Dog 1, I know that was loud. Everything is okay.” Give dog 2 a toy and reassure dog 1, who is a beautiful, sensitive poodle with many feelings.
7:20: Open document and despair.
7:25: Use Self-Control to kick self off internet. Twitter does not in any way comfort those in despair.
7:30: Despair.
7:35: Find one problem that needs to be fixing. Rewrite paragraph. It turns out that writing banishes despair at least for a short while.
7:55: Look up and realize that 20 minutes have gone by and productive writing has occurred.
7:56: Surely this merits a blog post.
Hits publish. Takes coffee to desk to start on paying work.
How do you get anything done?
Fangs and Clause 
I assumed initially that this was an entire day, spaced out with staring and rereading the news, rechecking statistics, worrying, and more staring, Netflix, checking stats again.
It would have been if I hadn’t just started a new job with a steep learning curve.
Muscle memory. I’ve read that golfers rely on muscle memory to swing the club. If they had to consciously think through each swing, they’d miss the ball each time. So they give themselves over unconsciously to their art. Something like that for me. I shut off the censors and the world and the doubt and the second guessing and the third guessing and the brilliant blogs and just stare at the screen and will my fingers to fly. Usually, I’ll find that I’ve done something the next time I come around to self awareness.
That’s pretty cool. I suppose getting up at 3 is muscle memory too? (And too early for the dogs to want to get up?)