The life I was meant to leave 

Well, as we all know it was a holiday weekend, and mine was actually fucking fantastic. Why? On Saturday and Sunday I deserved some Olympic level medal for the amount I got done. So many around the house things I can’t find time or energy for regularly, my husband helped a little but his job has him working the major summer holiday weekends, it’s when he’s supposed to be busiest. Ha. But then on Monday, I woke up and knocked out what I call the basics (bed is made, dishes washed, trash taken out, all the clothing and dishes and trash my husband left strewn wherever he went all put away, cat boxes, showering) and then I spent the entirety of the day (like 10-5) writing. It was amazing!! I got a little over 18 pages knocked out. I was like wow if only I had days like this more often.

I don’t know what it is but I can’t work on writing if the house is trashed. It gives me every kind of anxiety. Maybe because my mom was an unadulterated bitch if I didn’t take care of “my” share of the housework. Maybe because my grandma’s apartment was always PRISTINE so I associated cleanliness with happiness a really long time ago. Maybe it’s just the fact that I used cleaning and organizing the house as a means to attempt to control the chaos of my parents (especially dad’s) DEEP mental illnesses constantly caused. I couldn’t tell you got certain, I just know even though writing matters more than anything and always has I still can’t just run to my laptop after work and leap in. In part it’s because I know these things NEED to be done and 1) no ones helping me on their own 2) I am the QUEEN of anti-procrastination. Like procrastinating sickens me. WHY would you put something off when you KNOW you need to do it?!? There’s a limit, of course, like sometimes there’s not enough time in the day, or one is exhausted and works the next morning and knows the dishes will be there, but like when people waste time and still are like “oh I’m so behind on everything” it just enrages me. Take care of your own shit timely like the rest of the fucking adults.

So, I need to do a certain amount of housework before I could write, and because I let so much get backlogged it took two days of working full time at home to catch up, but oh damn did I. Plus I feel like I’m in that groove so to speak, I’ll probably write when I get home, hence the blog composed from work.

and, oddly enough, sometime over the weekend as he went into work and I stayed home (a FIRST for us, mind you) my husband said something about how he would one day make enough so I wouldn’t have to work, and I was like I can’t imagine that. He was like your goal isn’t to stop working? Then why do you always complain about having to work? I was just like you know I can’t even fathom what it’d be like if i was with someone who worked even just the same as me much less more and made more, it just doesn’t seem like real life to me.

BUT after yesterday I knew what I would do if I didn’t have to work, and I’d work at home, doing exactly what I did yesterday, hammer out the bare essentials so I have 6-8 hours for writing. Sure there will be days im not inspired, so that means you spend those days reading about writing fiction, or reading other works of fiction, or writing personal blogs that are slowly teaching you to express yourself healthily.

So, I guess it took three whole days off in a row, but I know what I’m meant for, but that doesn’t mean I won’t keep on as I am, there’s no sense in waiting for things to magically fix themselves. Ain’t no one coming to save anyone



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