Sometimes I really don’t know where the time goes. It’s not just a fairly used expression, but reality for me. I really don’t know where my days go sometimes.
For starters, I can’t believe that I haven’t been on this blog in almost a year. But at the same time, I stepped away from my work in progress for almost that long after I finished the final draft, so I guess I kind of can. I guess it’s mostly just the time passing that I don’t always catch. Wednesdays feel like Mondays, and I blink and it’s suddenly Saturday. Or I get to work at 9am, and I feel like I blink from under the pile of work I have to do and suddenly it’s time to go home.
Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m sinking under more and more work and I just don’t really know how to pull myself out of it. Every second of my days seem spoken for, and not one of those seconds goes to something I have a passion for, like my writing. And my reading has fallen into a quick second behind my writing.
I get home from work, and after I finally settle in for the night after dinner it’s nearly time to go to bed. I think I’m going to have a free weekend, and suddenly I have to be at an Aunt’s house for something, or a friend has an emergency that needs to be dealt with, or there’s medium work and house cleansing to do because my mom’s friend’s husband hasn’t moved on and wants to tell her something. There’s just this never ending parade of things to do. And I’m not saying I resent doing things for friends, or family, or spending time with both. That’s not what I’m saying at all.
I just, I guess what I’m saying is that it’s hard. Adulting and having responsibilities and a job that takes up most of the day is hard. I know it’s supposed to be, it wouldn’t be life if it wasn’t. But sometimes I wish that I could find a better handle on managing my time, and being able to fit everything in that I both want and need to without feeling like I’m dropping something on the other end.
Some people would say make a schedule, and stick to it, but well, I’m just not that organized. And I’m not exactly the kind of person that can follow a strict schedule. The minute reading my To-Be-Read pile feels like work, or editing my novel (or working on a few WIPs I have on the back burner) feels like work, I lose a lot of my motivation. My creative switch gets flipped and the lights go dark and I spend more time just staring at the screen, or piece of paper than I do actually reading or writing or working.
Maybe it’s because I really haven’t had a break in over a year, and I know some of that not getting a break is because Mom and I have a LOT of things on our plate. We never really found a balance after dad died, and we’re just kind of moving day to day as we can. And the one ‘vacation’ my mom and I take isn’t really a vacation because it’s a festival that I run and coordinate, and while I do enjoy it it’s not just a vacation – it’s work too.
Here’s hoping that I can work out something. I was able to finish The Red Queen, the first book I’ve really been able to finish in at least two months. I also finished editing chapter 1 of my roughly drafted novel. I’m hoping I can keep up the momentum, continue reading, continue editing, and hopefully get the short story I have in my head out and onto paper. Though the short needs to be a little more planned out before I can really get my teeth into the meat of the story, because it’s a mystery and I want to make sure it isn’t given away too soon into the book.