Since I started this blog just over two weeks ago, I’ve surprised myself with how I’ve been able to find time to write again.
It hasn’t been easy, however.
Mine is an extremely busy life. One wife. Four kids. Too many pets to count anymore. A full-time job working the dreaded 2nd shift with a long commute bookending my eight hours of monotony. College classes. Homework. Appointments.
The list could go on, but you get the picture. Many of you are in the same boat and the waters aren’t any smoother for you either.
Last night, I sat down to write a post, figuring I’d better get something out there to keep the masses fed. But I just couldn’t do it. Late at night, after I get home from work, is really the only time I have to chat about anything of substance with my lovely and patient wife. As I began to write, she had a million comments about this school activity or that upcoming appointment. I couldn’t do it.
And mornings aren’t much better. Writing when you know you have to be somewhere in less than an hour is no way to write.
And yet here I sit, doing that very thing.
Weekends are those rare times when I actually get to spend time with the family, and time spent blogging feels like time wasted.
But I’m writing again. And it’s like a fever that has to be dealt with before one can move on. It’s the rush of creating, when other things are pressing in and demanding or simply requiring one’s attention, which drives this passion we call the writing life.
Look at the time! I’ve gotta run . . .