Uncategorized

Finding Time for the Christmas Spirit

NORMEvery year I say I’ll do it…I’ll find time to relax and enjoy Christmas. Breathe in the days like a slow drag of endorphins, swirling around in my head, producing a silly grin on my face. Sit by the tree and watch the lights dance on the ornaments that only come out once a year. Go out to the kitchen, my ultra-clean kitchen, and begin baking cookies for which I have to Google which store in the free world sells the ingredients. (Because I can’t just make chocolate chip or molasses:) Then mosey into the dining room and begin wrapping presents while watching black and white movies. All the while supervising my tots making a gingerbread village. Ahh, the Norman Rockwell of it all!

But alas, every year it never seems to happen quite like I want it. This year for example I’ve been working my butt off. A virus hit my workplace and I’ve had to go in double time, the only cookies I make come from a roll in a messy kitchen, and I’ve managed to wrap only a few gifts, because Amazon is still shipping the others.  Gingerbread village? Ha! Try ugly lined paper and crayons to help pass their time until the Jolly ol’Saint Nick shows with toys that will interest them all of a day and a half (if I’m lucky). The future days don’t seem to have any more hope for a slow down.

There’s always time to dream for next year, I suppose.

 

Uncategorized

Guilty Writing

guiltThis last week has been one of those times that a story has consumed my every waking moment. My sleep…my driving…my working. It has pulled me from the lines of cooking, cleaning, and generally being present in this day. Although it’s wonderful to be visited by a forceful muse—one that pours ideas onto me like a raging waterfall, it has its downside.

As with anything you do independently from home—work or online classes—you run into the guilt factor. At least I do. As a writer, I’m sitting there typing away, doing the side-glance of the dirty dishes, the dirty laundry, and the empty cabinets where food once occupied. I wrestle with character motivation, as well as my own, in terms of getting other things done that need to get done. And I know! I’m at work, right? Writing is my job; one of many. When I do my other job on location, I’m not listening for the dryer to play that most annoying tune, and running to get the clothes before they wrinkle and I have to actually lay a hot iron to them. No, I’m doing whatever that job is. All that’s around me is filing cabinets, desks, computers…or cakes and pies. Pick the job!

Excuse the rant. It’s just that I’m trying to justify the time I’ve put into my latest book and not my daily chores. Even my plants are looking listlessly out to the rain, hoping it will break through the glass and moisten their roots. I kinda wish it would, too. Do you know how many plants I have to water weekly—sometimes twice if I want to see truly glossy foliage? I’ll save my plant addiction for another post!

Anyway, although I am thankful for the plentiful creativity that is pulsing through me now, I am waging the war on guilt. Hopefully it won’t take too long to download my brain onto the computer screen. I’d hate for the kids to come home from school and find my body taken over by the dust bunnies:)