Mid-Week Brain Freeze

Or brain meltdown.  When I hear stories about authors like J.K. Rowling writing the first draft of Harry Potter on napkins on her breaks during her job as a waitress…well, first of all I wonder if it’s true or one of those apocryphal stories that makes those of us balancing full time jobs with our creative pursuits feel like there’s hope.  Plus it makes great copy for publicity.

But seriously.  I have been busting my ass at work the last week and a half and am just so wiped out when I get home in the evenings, it’s been a real challenge meeting my word count on Champagne.  Heck, it’s been a real challenge doing more than pouring myself a glass of wine and collapsing on the couch in a heap.  This week has been particularly brutal, with a big two day meeting Thursday (jeez louise, that’s tomorrow!) and Friday.  Add to that some particularly annoying and random crisis’ involving corporate cars, tickets, police stations and a hellish drive this morning through rush hour traffic during which all the short cuts I tried got me lost…well, it’s been a trial.  A Salem witch type trial in which the choice is drowning and being proclaimed innocent or surviving and getting burned as a witch.

Okay.  NOT that bad.  I’m just feeling especially dramatic here. Did I mention I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep all week either?  Us sleep deprived people are drama queens.

My question here to all of you writers who either have full time jobs or kids (same thing) is how do you balance it all out and save energy for your writing?  What do you do when you’re so exhausted that changing out of your work clothes into pajamas feels like an hour of tae-bo?  ‘Cause I could really use some good ideas or inspirational speeches about now.  Y’know, like playing EYE OF THE TIGER except lacking the ’80s power chords.

I’ll tell you what I did last night.  I visited Brad and Aldyth, plopped myself down on their kitchen floor, accepted a glass of wine and let myself get covered with kittens.

I was still tired, but extremely content.

I’ve got to get through that door…

I don’t know about you, but when I get home from work, I can’t relax until all the chores that need to be done are completed.  I’m like a shark – if I don’t keep moving, I’ll sink into a sea of apathy and exhaustion.  Nothing will get done.  It doesn’t matter how late I work, how exhausted I am.  10 cats and one dog need feeding, floors need sweeping (10 cats generate a lot of pine litter dust), litter boxes need cleaning…there are usually dishes to be washed, laundry to be folded.  And if I’m REALLY lucky, one of the kids will have upchucked his/her breakfast and there will be cat vomit to be cleaned up.


I’m tired all over again.  Tonight included all of the above, btw.  And let’s not forget the recycle and garbage.

By the time I’m finished with all of these things, I’m wiped.  My brain is mush, my body exhausted and conjuring up creative energy is a challenge.  But part of being a writer is…well…actually WRITING.  Working on something.  Not just resting on my laurels (and my butt) and thinking about writing.   But dang, there are days when I wish I could put corks in my little darlings.   I won’t say which end.  I’m sure you get the idea.