Yes, my mom life took over my writing life again. I know how surprised you all are.
Today’s list had six items for the pool, one item for the gym, a grocery list, two items for the yearbook, and three items for the band. Then of course I had my housework schedule, which I’m only halfway through.
On the bright side, I was done with the rest of it by 10:30.
I wish I could figure out how to put this energy into the book. Or maybe it isn’t energy so much as it’s dedication? The idea that I can do these tasks and then I’ll be finished? Some days I don’t even want to look at it. I want it to be done and I want to write the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. I won’t speak of how long it’s been since I did any research for the Polish Boy Scouts project. I’m serious about all of it, but some days there’s just no motivation.
And if there’s clutter or some kind of housework that needs doing? It depends. I get overwhelmed by housework easily, so there’s a schedule. Typically I try to spend half an hour or so on the house every morning. Make the bed, wipe down the bathroom, do the dishes, that sort of thing. If I don’t do it, I can’t write because I feel too guilty.
I think that might be the biggest part of this journey. I’m looking at Colorado Gold because I’d like to go; I have friends who are teaching at it. But it’s September; there will be band and kid things and leaving kids with husband. I love him, but feeding the kids something they will eat isn’t one of his strong points. Having my own tiny room for work, not having a full time job, a lot of writers dream about exactly this.
The space is here, but so are the obligations. And the things I feel driven to do that aren’t writing. I think this is what makes that “cabin” fantasy we all have so attractive. Mine is on Crete; it would be a small, sun-drenched space with comfortable seating and lots of windows to let in the ocean breeze. Well, of course it would be on the beach! And the colors would be bright, and food would appear by magic, and nobody there would even know my name, and I would turn out words and paragraphs and chapters and books and then I would call it Art.
Well, it’s a good daydream.
Okay, butt in the chair, coffee at the ready. A thousand post-it notes for my edits, and now I’ll…I’ll go pick up my fourth grade daughter and take her to lunch, the library, and dance. It’s half day Wednesday.
ellen mcbee 
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