It's not so exciting
When you start writing.
Excuse the little poem. I have been academic writing for four hours today, partly putting in changes according to house style (they are all different: author's names always come first but after that the order of information is different), and mostly disagreeing with myself on purpose. You have to write with a view to being criticised, but if you're not careful you can criticise yourself so much that you decimate your confidence.
I am also mindful of my eyesight. So for that reason I am taking a break for an hour and I'm going to listen to some music and dance about in the kitchen, despite being remarkably stiff-limbed after a mad dash to Gina's yesterday to participate in a Skype call with Molly at Kickstarter. The bus had stopped at every red light and every pedestrian crossing all the way down from Barnet, plus at every stop a million school kids and a hundred pushchairs got on, so it's not surprising it took a long time.
In between all the excitingness, there are long interludes of simply having to earn a living and mind my academic reputation. I do try to win the lottery every week and had a couple of exciting weeks when I won another lottery ticket for the following week. I was certain that the jackpot was going to come up next, but it didn't.
Anyway, my jackpot is, and always has been since I had them, my daughters.