Of all the disciplines required for a full-time author, I have the most trouble with striking a balance between work and recreation (or relaxation). No matter what plan I concoct in my mind, write down on paper, confess to my critique partners, etc., I end up working seven days a week. This is not bragging, for sure. You see, I am not a proud workaholic like some.
My predicament could very well be because I don't have much of a life outside of my writing. Don't laugh. I'm serious. Other than church and the infrequent literary or family event, my daily schedule consists of housework, errands and television. I know that's sad, but by the time I finish working I'm too tired to do anything else.
After an early morning trip to Home Depot, for items to finish up the new bathroom floor, we spent Saturday morning sprucing up for Thanksgiving. Everyone comes to our house on Turkey Day, and we all go to my sister's for Christmas. After returning newly washed dishes to the now sparkling clean china closet in the dining room, we stripped the living room slipcovers and I vacuumed and Febreezed the furniture while the covers washed. He put the clean covers back on while I finally got to work on revisions for The Real Thing, which is supposed to go to my editor by this coming Friday.
Yesterday was the first Sunday of the month, the day I serve in the nursery. Over the years I've served in different ministries, and taking care of the babies so their moms can enjoy the service is my favorite. Unfortunately, one of my sweeties wasn't feeling well and had a case of diarrhea which resulted in my having to change her three times.
Another of the little ones is relatively new to the church and still hasn't grown accustomed to being away from her parents. Needless to say, she wasn't exactly a happy camper yesterday. Thankfully, I did have one joyful, smiley child. Thank you, Miss Kyla!
By the time we got back home from church, after hubby stopped at Blimpie for subs, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and read for the rest of the day...
Only I had 104 e-mails, 24 Facebook messages and a few Twitter DMs to which I needed to respond.
Granted, all of the e-mail is a result of the groups I belong to, and most of those messages aren't addressed directly to me. Still I have to at least sort through them and delete the ones I don't need to read.
Once I dealt with the mail, I needed to continue working on the TRT revisions. But I just couldn't do it, and instead went upstairs to read and finish watching Fast Five on DVD. Within fifteen minutes of starting the movie, I was out cold with my Kindle resting on my chest (and people wonder why it takes me so long to read a book these days...).
By five o'clock we were hungry again. You know who wasn't cooking anything at that point, right? Curbside To Go from Applebees provided dinner while we finally watched the end of the movie. At eight o'clock, BET aired the fabulous Black Girls Rock special, and I watched that while I typed the questions for a blog interview I'm doing next week.
I've said all this to say that I think I'm losing the time management battle. There seems to be more and more to do and less time in which to do it. I feel as if I'm drowning. A recurrent daydream I have is one of a world where I can simply write endlessly and my work magically appears in cyberspace without the aid of Tweets, Facebook posts, online features, and interviews.
Well, I'm done with my rant (and with my Monday blog entry.) I'm not asking for answers to my mess, just some listening ears.
Thanks for listening ...