I've been on vacation (a long sought after, long anticipated vacation) for a few days now, and I'm more tired now than when I started out. Running around, chasing back and forth, worried that my money isn't going to last. Funny how it always seems like a lot until you get where you're going and then it's not enough.
I have less time to write and when I do, people peer over my shoulder. I never liked writing in public, but funny--I never classified a guest room in my mom's house as public before. If public is defined by volume, then this blue and beige extra bedroom is Pike's Place Market.
Like a weird funhouse mirror, my world is getting all tarnished and warped with time and distance. The words don't come and deep thoughts get derailed with, "So...what are you writing?"
There's this old management adage that goes, "give a project to a busy person." Because you just know that person will slot it into her to-do list. My writing is fine when I'm strapped for time, but this vacation stuff is eating me up.
Maybe I need a to-do list.
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1 comment:
Isn't it funny how that happens? We definitely have to make time for writing, don't we??
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