It’s a paradox, I tell you. I don’t take days off, and yet, I take a lot of days off. :) I guess I should just admit that it’s not that I don’t take days off (because clearly I do), I just don’t have dedicated work days like I used to have when I had a day job, so every day is a possible work day, just not a probable one at the moment. I’ve been taking more days off than I’ve been working this month. Ack!
I don’t like the week/weekend lifestyle and I never have. With this career, I don’t have to force myself into it and I really love that. Now if only I could finish these books I’ve got going so that I don’t have to worry about having to trade this job in for another job at some point in the future. Sooner rather than later, truth be told—writing and publishing is a bit like construction work, either feast or famine. I had my feast a few months ago. Famine’s on the way. ;)
Which leads me to a confession: I haven’t even started reading my finished novel yet. What to do? And why do I keep putting off the reading of that book?! I assume (1) I’m scared of what I’ll find, (2) I think it’ll get better if I wait, (3) I won’t be so hard on myself if I give it time, and (4) I just don’t want to do it right now.
Ah well. It’s time I get over all 4 of those possible reasons and get started. It’s 10:50 am right now. I’m going to start reading that book no later than 11:30, no matter what else crops up before then, and I’m going to finish reading it by 5 pm. I can do that.