I think I finally figured out why writing has been so darned hard lately. I'm trying to work two jobs, deal with kids who are out of college for the summer and either at home (requiring that I cook more regular meals) or are living out of state (adding to my list of things to worry about), and my mother just left after a six week visit. Diagnosis?
I'm stressed and exhausted.
I sit down to write at night after working all day doing hard physical labor out in the hot Texas sun, and all I really want to do is go to bed. But I feel guilty if I don't write, so I end up revising already written pages instead of writing new ones. I long for the days when my husband went off to work and I stayed home and wrote. Now when he goes to work, I'm right there with him. When I'm home, he's home. I never get a break. I love him dearly, but I'd give just about anything for a full day at home alone. A day when I didn't have a to-do list a mile long, didn't have any expectations except how many pages I want to write.
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