Long Days

Be careful what you wish for. In a good sense.

The day has now come that I am writing all the time, interrupted only by my social schedule and business assumptions.

Lucky me.

But what this means is, while the whole world is out there working, talking to each other, carrying on, making a difference or no difference at all, I am in my hamster house on my wheel.

It is fun. And you can certainly fit in doing laundry, sinus lavage, stomach crunches, a little guitar playing, a run to the cheap (but very good, we are near Elmhurst, you know) Chinese take out, a meditation during sunset looking at the skyline, some phone calls, email. Really, a perfect day.

But, you do build up a libido for yacking.

There is something interesting about getting what you want. You can still feel antsy, if you are someone who has been antsy for a long time. And trusting it, well, trust is a whole thousand other blog entries.

But when you settle into it and you really take it on, that feels right.

I have always been ridiculously romantic about being a writer. A big part of the romance is being able to be alone every day for long periods of time. But the capper is to see people after all is said and done. And when you tend to work late…it’s hard to make that happen.

So, you spend some days completely alone, working. And then, you spend days with people and you don’t work as much or not at all.

You go in and out. You go in and out.