It's Friday night. I'm sitting here in the midst of a very, very dirty house. I'm staring at my computer screen. I'm fighting a losing battle with all the words and ideas in my head. I'm supposed to be writing.
Last month I accepted a part time position as a writer. So I've been writing. What I'm learning is that writing for someone else--on a schedule--is a challenge for someone who prefers to be free from the shackles of another person's agenda.
But everything within me tells me that I need to do this. It's a sacrifice of my most precious commodity--my time. It's humbling to have someone else critique my work and offer suggestions. It's exhausting to deal with the panic that washes over me as I struggle to find the right way to express ideas about topics that are still a bit foreign to me.
And I still have a regular job to do. It takes a lot of work, and I brought a good deal of that work home with me this weekend. On top of that, I three additional positions there as part of my plan to visit Portugal and Spain next summer.
What have I done?
I don't know.
But I have to do this.
Last month I accepted a part time position as a writer. So I've been writing. What I'm learning is that writing for someone else--on a schedule--is a challenge for someone who prefers to be free from the shackles of another person's agenda.
But everything within me tells me that I need to do this. It's a sacrifice of my most precious commodity--my time. It's humbling to have someone else critique my work and offer suggestions. It's exhausting to deal with the panic that washes over me as I struggle to find the right way to express ideas about topics that are still a bit foreign to me.
And I still have a regular job to do. It takes a lot of work, and I brought a good deal of that work home with me this weekend. On top of that, I three additional positions there as part of my plan to visit Portugal and Spain next summer.
What have I done?
I don't know.
But I have to do this.
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