Yesterday, I cried. I wanted to be ALONE. I wanted to WRITE. And I wrote this long-winded draft about the things that were getting in my way, but they boil down to these quotes. Guess which one finally brought me to tears?
- “Cincinnati Public Schools are CLOSED.”
- “Sorry, we don’t have that in the back, either.”
- “You’re cheating! I don’t know how, I just know it!”
- “Of course I took a shower! Sniff me!”
- “Run the fucking ball!”
My routine is closely connected to the Fiancé’s work hours and Sugar’s school hours. Now I see I haven’t come up with anything for breaks. I am exhausted. I have been wrung dry of all winter break enthusiasm. Please help me. I am at risk of becoming nocturnal. Staying up until my family is asleep is the only way I’ve been able to get any quiet. Nocturnal and college student don’t mix. Nocturnal and attentive parent don’t mix. I’ve been sleeping through SpongeBob marathons most of the weekend.
I have to get myself together. I’m sick of being an aspiring writer. And I’m sick of looking just shy of zombie from the terrible quality sleep I’ve been getting. I woke up like this. People screamed and cried, and I went back inside.
I’m disappointed in myself. Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote Uncle Tom’s Cabin with her kids running around the table. Jack Bickham wrote several books (as well as my favorite how-to book) by putting writing first, literally: getting up to write at 5 am before getting his kids ready and going to work as a journalist. I don’t even have a job. I quit when my RA got severe. but I’m blessed to be able to write. I need to do it every day, even just a little bit. Hell, this blog post is about 300 words. I’m not going to post it until I’ve written my requisite 1k, though.
[Bonus Question: it was 5. Football-related screaming at ten till midnight? I sat here and wept into my hands because punching one’s fiancé is frowned upon.]