Thursday, September 12, 2013

Frustration

I'm starting this blog without a title because I have a feeling I'm just going to whine and rant without any clear definition of what I'm writing about.

 I suppose that was a warning to you, this is nothing but a rant today...

I was going to title it Feeling Insignificant, but that sounded so pathetic.

But...

Lately I feel like I'm standing still while the whole world is running, gaining a greater and greater lead away from me.

I can't get my work done at work.  I have no many duties I can't keep up.

I can't get my work done at home. I finally did laundry and cleaned my kitchen last night after days.

I've barely written a word in weeks. I have a website I need to work on. A book that needs editing. My fall publication is at a standstill. It almost feels as if it will never get released.

I have no emails, no Facebook comments, no Tweets. This I blame on not having enough time to keep up with the world. No time to interact with my virtual people. People who at one time I'd talk to all day. People I miss.

If I'm not keeping up with the world, how will I possibly make any sales on my next book.

I think it's finally time to balance my world lest the rest of the world pass me by.

But how do you balance it all? I've asked this question before, I know, but I honestly
don't know how people do it. I work, I write, I edit. I coach soccer, attend music gigs and soccer games for my girls. I have a house, a yard, a boyfriend. I kickbox.

And then there's still this sleep issue I have. This utter fatigue that makes me so tired I have to sleep a couple hours during the day which drives me absolutely nuts and takes me away from things I feel I should be doing.

Last night I thought I would write. But after working, then having to take a nap, soccer practice, kickboxing...I had choices. I had piles of laundry to fold and a dirty kitchen, or I could write. I chose the former. I can let my house be in a state of disarray for a little bit, but after a while it nags at me, scratching metaphorical claws on the door of my mind.

I'm only 4200 words into this current book. That saddens me. How can I be a writer if I don't write?

I'm frustrated.

I think I finally found a title for this blog...


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