- I set a date on which to begin--usually the day after I've finished some other major task.
- That date arrives. I think about working, but decide that I'm really owed a day of downtime and relaxation after the rush to finish my previous project/submit grades/plow through mounds of research/whatever. But I'll totally start writing the next day.
- The second day, I intend to dive right in. But I don't know where to begin. I wander aimlessly around the house, eventually settling down with my folder of notes. I write out lists of ideas or things to incorporate, or maybe a rough outline.
- The third day, I start writing. Usually I manage about a paragraph. The rest of the time I spend re-reading shit I've already written, marveling that it actually got written, and that it sounds kinda good.
- The fourth day, I can usually manage a few pages.
From there on in, I'm generally able to work slowly but steadily. But getting started is agony, every time.