Lately I've been doing pretty well with getting most of my daily tasks done (things like dishes, laundry, making it to work on time, writing, showering, yoga, and keeping up with all the media I let into my life). This is an odd and precarious time for me, so I do everything I can to keep it going. I bribe myself with Nutella. I cook complicated meals that use up all my dishes, then clean the entire kitchen afterwards. I draw little pictures in my journal even though they are laughably crude. It's a generally happy time, marred only by the anxiety that it will end.
I think a number of other people are going through the same thing right now. New Year's Resolutions are fresh, the hustle of the holidays are done, and it's much more appealing to finish inside to-do tasks than deal with going outside to shovel the snow. The best part of me thinks that everyone being productive at the same time will boost our collective self-esteem and happiness, but the truth is that my Google reader has exploded with posts from usually less-than-regular writers. I would be more frustrated, but I know the out-pour will taper off as the months pass. This year I'm just hoping my writing will be part of the trickle that remains.