Why do they keep telling me to take a break? Do people who make afghans take a couple weeks off after finishing one? Do people who tinker with cars go weeks without ducking under a hood?
Somebody said, “Find what you love to do, then find a way to get paid for it.” Fine. Did the first part, working on the second. So leave me alone. I’ll worry about resting when my fingers fall off.
I understand there are people around me who need me. I’m getting a little annoyed at the number of animals who need me, we’re up to six with the addition of a very cute rat, but–I digress.
Yes, my family needs me. But if all we’re going to do together is sit watching a little screen, they can come watch me write. At least then one of us is doing something more than rotting her brain.
Tonight I wrote two or three pages, and I was having a blast. Then hubby comes nagging about watching a movie he borrowed from the neighbor. (see “nice but annoying neighbor boy,” mentioned previously.) Said movie apparently features a kick-ass woman who will remind me of my ex-Marine. Well, I’m writing said Marine right now, so I’m actually ‘with’ her. I don’t need to be reminded. Thank you, though. Maybe later.
I know he thinks he’s trying to help, and he’s trying to understand. But it doesn’t help that I asked him to read my synopsis over two weeks ago, and he still can’t be bothered. So how can he pretend to care?