I'm so hard on myself lately. I can't do everything and be everything to every one, yet I manage to feel guilty. I have to tell myself daily that I have a job and just because I work from home, doesn't mean I can act like I don't have to work.
Yet I keep disappointing people without even trying.
All I can do is keep on keeping on.
I want (expect) so much from myself. I want to be in better shape, to do the workouts my old personal trainers had me do, but with tendon injuries, it's not possible. So I do the best I can, making sure I get my 10,000 steps a day and lifting weights a few times a week. I did a total body workout on Tuesday after work, and am still feeling it two days later.
I want to be able to write effortlessly, but have to continually remind myself it's butt-in-the-chair, plan scene ahead of time, sheer work.
I want to do more promo, but I've already done six or seven guest blogs (some will appear by the end of the month) and my own as well.
I still have one more backlist book to put up on Amazon, but it needs editing and I simply don't have time. Yet. I will, someday.
And have I worked at all on that YA idea I have? No. All my writing time is (as usual) dedicated toward contracted books. Yet I want. I want.
I want to read more. I have over 300 unread books on my Kindle and probably that many in my TBR stack. Yet I am reduced to reading during commercials while I watch mindless television like The Voice and The X-Factor. I have several workout books I'm dying to get to as well, plus I just ordered The Plot Whisperer and Workbook and I *need* to read those to see if they will help me plot. (Thanks Anna Adams for the recommendation).
Writing is hard when life throws you curve balls. I try to find a balance of normal in my life, I have found I thrive with routine rather than chaos, and yes - I did get some sleep last night. Thank goodness.
I feel constant pressure to do more. It's worse now than it was when I actually worked a day job and wrote in my spare time, though I had longer deadlines then. Some of it is the fact that my mom is so sick and also that my elderly dad moved here and is now alone since his wife died. He knows no one, so I feel bad for him. At least my mom has her life partner - they've been together 35 years.
Ah well, I'm human. I work, try to maintain a great relationship with my husband, take care of my dogs, and myself. If I ever figure out a way to clone myself, I'll be able to do more, but until then, I just keep on keepin' on.