I like to keep the whiny out of this journal. No one likes to read emo, unless it’s a laugh aloud cat parody. I need to get this out, and once it’s out, maybe it will fly away, and leave me alone, and let me get back to business.
I am so…very…tired. I’m not sure what to do about that at this point in time.
Like so many struggling writers, I have a full time job. That’s so I can struggle in one way, but not in all ways on my way to publication. I LOVE my job. To paraphrase Burt Lancaster from Field of Dreams: If I’d become a baseball player (writer) instead of a doctor (teacher), now that would have been a real tragedy. I like my job, but it uses up vast quantities of personal energy. They call it full-time for a reason. In addition to what I do on site, there’s always that stack of tests and papers and prep to take home. In addition, there’s the administrative side of things to organize and get up and running.
I am nearing the end of my troll book. Yes, really. I have 3 hours dedicated to just it on Tuesday, and 4 hours dedicated to it on Wednesdays. I add more as I can. It’s a good thing to be writing.
I have terrific friends. Two of them just got married in a big blow out. Several of us are getting together this weekend, and there’s another one at an art festival next weekend, and perhaps a trip to the winery the following weekend.
All this constant work and play is taking its toll. I’m pretty damned tired. I can’t even imagine life with children. There’s too much. I am too lucky. I have too many good things.
And I’m not sure what to do about it. I am prioritizing already. Maybe I need to start prioritizing rest, for just a little while.
Anyway, it becomes apparent why writers quit work. It is increasingly difficult for me to do it all. It would be nice if I could achieve more balance, rather than everything going at full tilt.
Okay, time, start slowing things down. Because I’m a little worn out.