During the school year I write from 7-whenever I stop because I know I have to work the next morning, I watch TV one night a week, I plan my week with writing front and center and I say things like, “I can’t wait for summer,” and “It’s going to be like I’m a full-time writer.”
And then summer hits. And I take a nap. And another. And another. I try new recipes. I go to the gym (some years). I take another nap. I read a book, I listen to a book, I read the paper cover-to-cover, I Facebook and tweet and take another nap. I get hooked on a TV show I can watch from season 1 to season 7 in one week (The West Wing, y’all. I can’t even. It is simply magical. Yay Donna and Josh!). And I take another nap.
And I write about writing. And I read about writing. And I look at my Pinterest board For Writers. And I take another nap. And I watch my tomatoes grow and I look at my gardenia and say “bloom, baby, bloom!” and I play with Emmie–who really wishes I’d just leave her alone and go to the office.
And then I reach today and it’s 7 p.m. and I’ve taken naps and done all the rest, but I’ve spent about four hours editing total in four days and I realize if this is full-time writing, my dream of making this my full-time job in nine years is never going to happen because studying the dialogue of Gilmore Girls isn’t going to get any books written.
So this is me saying it’s time to get real. I can sleep later and watch TV later and mess around on Pinterest later.
If you need me, I’ll be in the office. Writing.