I fear this is going to be one of those posts where the two people reading this might think I sound like a horrible person. Oh well.
Back a few summers ago, I woke up one day and quit my job. While it was very freeing, I didn’t exactly plan ahead beyond that Friday, and thus I had no idea what I was going to do come Monday. Turns out that quitting your job on a whim in the middle of a recession isn’t the smartest idea. I wound up being out of work for a good 4 months.
The upside to this was that I finally had all the time in the world to write. And write I did. I spent nearly every day in my local Barnes and Noble cafe, and I banged out a draft of my current MS (which I then promptly stuck in a drawer and forgot about when I did get another job).
These days, all of my writing takes place at the kitchen table. All of it. Sometime in between that summer of writing and now, I got married, found a new job, bought a house, had a baby, and quit that new job to stay at home with my daughter. Before I had her, I envisioned myself as a stay at home home having nothing but free time to write, which … hilarious. The only time I can get ANYTHING done during the day is when she’s napping, which normally only comes in 40 minute spurts. So if I want to shower, eat, toss a load of laundry in the dryer, anything, it has to get done during a short 40-minute window. Needless to say, nothing much gets done.
I love my daughter with all of my heart, but sometimes (ok, lots of times) I long for that summer I spent writing. I could go at my own pace, and spend the entire day writing if I wanted to. There was no built-in timer that is my child’s cry. And so I needed a solution. Writing 100 words a day was not going to cut it, and so I started waking up a good two hours early each morning to write. It’s been working out for me so far, and while it’s not ideal, it’s all I can do.
And while I’m complaining about the death of my former life, can I just add one more thing? Seventy-five percent of my wardrobe is relegated to the back of my closet, completely untouched. All the professional stuff, a la
or
And now I pretty much look like this all day long.
Which is comfy and all, but man do I miss getting all dressed up each morning. And to all of those people out there who don’t yet have kids but swear up and down that they’re still going to wear heels and high maintenance clothing once they have kids (and I was one of them), all I have to say is HA!
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