For a good portion of my life, I spent my time doing the “responsible”
thing. School. Work. Career plan. Good grades. Good behavior. And on it goes.
Then I picked up the pen again.
I feel in love with words all over again, looking forward to
sitting in front of the computer tapping away ides instead of dreading the
stiff cranking of academia. With that rush of love, I tossed aside the “should”
of having a “sensible” career, which I spent the better part of six years
trying desperately to achieve. And out the door went as many of the other “shoulds”
I’d collected as I could handle leaving behind.
Unfortunately, I tossed too many.
It was recently brought to my attention—forcibly since I’m
good with denial—that I can’t sleep worth crap during the morning. (I work 3rd
shift at a factory for the sake of the bills.) Now, I’ve known how terrible
trying to fight the sun is for a while, but there were so many good things to
be had from sleeping in the morning. Cuddles with my love. Dinner with my love.
Conversation with my love. And help from the same love in keeping my ass at the
desk when it needs to get scribbling done. (Noticing a pattern. X-3 I’m
hooked.)
The downside: requiring a 3 hour “nap” before work. Meaning,
I could make pages or revise only to succumb to exhaustion the moment I met my
goal for the day. So none of my other obligations got the attention I needed to
give them.
Thus, under protest, I’m doing the responsible thing and
keeping my butt awake until evening when I sleep best.
No comments:
Post a Comment