So one of the really annoying little things about writing a whole lot lately as it makes you appreciate things you think you want to change. Take, for example, that dream we all have about quitting when we hit some jackpot or (even more improbably) publish that bestseller?
I have a children’s book I’m wrapping up (some idiot who looks a bit like me lost the stylus for my digital drawing pad holding up progress) about a kids’ messy room. While I wait for the new e-pencil to arrive, I’m working on another book about family in the mornings before my day job. And I fantasize about a day when the book work would be my day job.
We’ve had enough healthcare disasters in our family that my day job will be a fact of life until I’m on Medicare and Thing2 is, hopefully, working some place with good health insurance. But that’s not the only reason I’ll have a day job for a long while.
Last week and the week before, I took a few days off for cleaning and Thing1’s graduation celebrations. I had a bit of extra down time, but, somehow, in the middle of that down time, no extra writing happened.
More life happened, and, when I got back to my mundane early morning write, late morning work for money routine, the writing got back to normal. I’m still writing about the ordinary family stuff, but it occurs to me that the day job forces me to treat the writing like a job with its own schedule. To show up each day. It makes the mundane family stuff, like the battles with the insurance company and the purchase of a tomato plant or two, possible in a lot of ways.
It’s a little thing, and, even though it’s always been appreciated, sometimes it’s nice to see it in a new light.