Bethany: I’ve been around
Really. I’m not dead. I’ve spent a night out drinking more glasses of wine than I have consumed in one year and I’m still paying for it. I’ve spent more hours in a car than one should in a given week. I’ve gained more responsibility at work that I care to even think about. And I’m considering weaning the Peanut sooner rather than later. I haven’t lost a single pound (maybe gained a few). And I bought a new shirt at Old Navy because I just wanted a new one.
Now that I got all that out of the way, I can give you the real scoop. The crap that I’ve been avoiding. I’m tired and still overwhelmed. That revelation no surprise to you? Me either. But I do know that the fact that I am not writing (and apparently drinking) is in direct correlation to the amount of tired and overwhelmed I am feeling. And it is a vicious cycle. For anyone that has tried to do something outside your comfort zone and takes a TON OF TIME… well you know you have to be dedicated. You have to love it. And, by God, you have to make room for it in your life. And as of tonight, I haven’t written a word in my novel in over 2 months. Maybe 3 if I am truthful about it. And it is killing me. Slowly. Softly. And hell, I cried a few tears over it last night at the bar (damn it! A crying drunk!).
But that embarrassment proves one thing. It really is bothering me that I am not writing. And I need to do something about it. Anything. So that I am not a blubbering idiot next time the Hubby and I decide to pay a sitter and go out (and have the Wine Flights at the local pub). Seriously people. By how much more did my geek factor climb because I was weeping over not writing at a bar? A BAR! [shaking my head] No need to tell me, I know how it sounds. And, regretfully, I know how it looks. Thank God my husband is also one who believes in dreams. And gets me. So, he just bought me a shot, gave me a hug, and told me he loved me. Then, as quick as I took that shot, I told him we needed to go home before I got sick.
So, today, after a bottle of ibuprofen and a long afternoon nap with the baby to rid myself of a hangover, I’m writing. Not the book (hell, that’s too much effort. I’m still recovering!). But at least a blog post. And a book review. I’m dusting off the virtual files for the book. So tomorrow, I can make grand plans. And write. I hope. But, let’s not let the doubt creep in. That just makes for more pressure. And right now, my head has all the pressure it can take (hangovers are a bitch).
[Cross-posted from Mommy Writer Blog. Thanks, Bethany!]