I spent this morning scrubbing the fridge, stove, and oven. I donned rubber gloves, used multiple cleaning substances — which hopefully will not kill all my brain cells — and scraped mystery goop with a toothpick. I sweated. At one point, I prayed the aforementioned stuff would just come off already!
Work that has meaning
But it was okay. Why? Because it was for a purpose. If I know that I want a kosher-for-Passover kitchen, I’ve got to work for it. If I want it finished before the kids start vacation so I can actually enjoy their company, I’ve got to work for it. And when I reach those goals, I will be satisfied and happy.
Writing is like that. Sometimes, you’ve got to work hard. Sometimes, it ain’t pretty: you’ve got to scrape out the goop and use every trick in the book to do so. But when you work hard, and pray for success, you’ll USUALLY end up with something you can enjoy. And you’ll get more pleasure from it as a result of all that effort.