I wrote to a friend recently that I like to "work on the edge of madness." And that's true, that is the edge I like to dance upon. And whether I am writing or running numbers, it's where I like to push myself to in my stress levels. I recently did some collateral and white paper writing and editing for my company that was all too reminiscent of late night college paper finishing. When I used to write in my room, I would talk to myself, get up and walk around the room waving my arms as I tried different statements out to get perfection. Then, I would run back to my computer and pound the keyboard then sit back in satisfaction looking at the product. Then I would do something else when I couldn't get it out of myself anymore. I would leave, run around, lay on the futon and listen to my favorite song of the moment over and over until my concentration returned.
I find myself in the same tense state of needing to escape very two hours and walk a lap or two around the office, waving my hands and talking to myself until the exact words come out. 'Yes, that is how I want to say it!' Perfect, indeed it can be said no other way. I'm glad I am turned away from anyone who may be walking past my cubicle so they cannot see me making all sorts of faces at the computer screen.
When I write literary commentary the paper is already in me--a great big lump in my stomach I need to shape in a concrete manner I can see in my head on paper. With research the available information is endless, and I love gathering it. But summarizing and citing requires discipline to stay honest and correct. So it's not as fulfilliing to me as my own words and deductions. But that same process, the same stress.
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