At this point, I would like to Express myself in all the sharpness against the ready-to-be. Ready-to-be is awful. Depressing. To be finished is killing me.

Actually, you are doing something, to have it sometime done. This is wonderful and works perfectly, as long as it relates to small, manageable activities that take a half hour or a maximum of half a day. Window cleaning, sock sorting, painting, bedroom wall: When you are finished with it, all is well. Tick, happy, next thing from the conveyor belt of life, whose end lies somewhere far beyond the horizon, thank God.

the size of the project, it comes to Meike Winnemuth: to make it short

Meike Winnemuth writes columns, since you can recognize the letters, since 2013, also for the star. Long as they had a colossal inferiority complex compared to authors who can do 900-page Tome. In the meantime, she has resigned to the fact that it is a text Sprinter with short-range brain, and is committed to the Northern German Motto “Not long time”. If she struggles, however, to a proper book, the crazy a Bestseller on how to your travel book “The great Los. How I won with Günter Jauch half a Million and just drove off”.

Differently in the case of larger projects: a book or a house or a dam or a self-knitted sweater with deer and braids. The longer something out of this To-do category, and the more you actually have to take that it’s finally finally done, the ach. The bridge of sighs. The more unsatisfactory. It’s really weird. There is a famous quote of the old New York sharp tongue of Dorothy Parker: “I hate writing. I love having written.” The can you have just claimed, because she wrote primarily short texts – the window-cleaning phenomenon here. You could have executed a great thing, would you also have the having written hated. I know what I’m talking about.

for one thing, it is almost never really satisfied with the result. It’s just become so reasonably okay, certainly far from what you had imagined. Why? No Idea. We used to have to start. You should have more to tuck in. A careful work. You’d have to do everything differently. As my publisher always so wisely says (and strangely enough, recently said): “Every author is satisfied with its submission of the manuscript to be far behind its possibilities.” This is true not only for writers, but for the whole of humanity: in this sense, the expertly designed actually better.

It was what would be done at the beginning, had been right in front of our eyes, as it should be. And then, Yes then. Then the life, the in between, like time and its own non came. The Plan became a reality, and in the history of mankind has been the shit still of reality as powerful against the underlying Plan. We don’t have to do with communism and the Berlin airport, to prove this, it is the ashtray from the VHS is enough already-pottery class at the time.

After each completion of the dreary semi-omne animal, as we used to say Latins. But not only because of the mittelokayen result, but also because the Process is now over and it falls into a medium-large hole. Abi, studying, wedding, promotion, circumnavigation of the World: as long as it’s with Trepidation and Hope, and then it’s over, and it is stupid. A project is great, as long as you do it. When it’s done. The Knit was nice. The sweater on the other hand … well. A sweater.

hooks behind development projects

I try since some time only to projects, which can be, by definition, never finished, but always in the making. Garden, friendship, incarnation, culinary art, things. Development projects are never completed, no hooks per behind, open in all directions. And therefore so much more satisfying than anything I’ve filed.

Nice, once in a while a small window-cleaning column in between, of course. You need the feeling of something get ready to have