I know my posting, as of late, has been near non-existent. I was keeping up with the Monday Music Videos, but then that became
all I was doing and it got a bit ridiculous. I wish I had more to say about my writing life except that I've put it on hold
for now, until I have find a balance. I'm juggling a lot of plates, you see. I'm working 50-60 hours a week and when that happens, you tend to shut down in other things. Virginia Woolf was right when she said that author's (well, she was writing about women writers, but I'll expand it to anyone who wants to write) need a room of one's own and the leisure time to do it, usually brought on by wealth. When you're working that many hours, in a high-stress environment, your brain tends to be squishy by the time you get home.
I'm not happy with this current arrangement. Truth be told, I hate it. I hate that I work so much for very little money. It makes me regret some of the choices I made in my life. I also hate that it's taken away my writing time from me; something that helps keep me sane and energized. I hate that my writing abilities are atrophying. That when I try to sit down and write, it takes longer and harder to get into "the groove" of it. In the Summer of 2010, I had it down to an art, I was at peak form, the best I'd ever been (of course, there was room for improvement, but I was
at the best I'd ever been). Then I started this new job and...well, I've barely written anything since then.
I need to do something to change this, but I'm not sure what. Working -- bringing home a paycheck -- is kind of necessary. And on top of that, I need to eat, go to the gym (if I want to lose weight, which I do), keep myself and my apartment presentable. All this takes time.
Maybe, to extend the atrophying muscle metaphor, it is like working out. Do it when you can -- five minutes here, ten there, an hour one day. Eventually the muscles strengthen again.
All I know is my stress levels are up, my coping mechanisms are down. I need to write and soon. And not just stare at the tiny blinking cursor, which is what happens on weekends. No, I need to bite the bullet, get on the bicycle, and learn to ride again.
