Writing As Fast As I Can

Some days I wonder why writing is so hard. Why a jackhammer that normally wouldn't register bangs outside with the persistence of an anxious heartbeat. Why it feels that my characters mock me. Why sentences get tangled in my head like I have two left hands and can't move over the keyboard with any sense of grace or meaning. On those days I wonder if I should have been a sales clerk or forest ranger or deep sea diver. But then all of the sudden the words are there, the characters playing like a movie in my head, my hands racing to keep up with my thoughts, and I remember that I'm not all that enamored of stores or forests and especially not of anything in the deep sea. Then the jackhammer fades away and I find my place.