Juggling my writing, my health, and my full-time job is a process that starts at the miracle hour of 3:00 AM. For some reason, God graced me with a brain that can only tap its right side in the morning. On rare occasions I would be in such a zone as to write all day until 2:00 AM, but that was only when the Sun, Earth, Moon and Mars were perfectly aligned. Other than that, noon meant quittin’ time. So when our four children no longer needed their mom 24/7, I went back into the work force and had no choice but to set an ungodly early alarm if I was going to get any writing done at all.
Unfortunately for my husband I am not a night person. When I get home from work, I am unable to follow the directions on a gravy packet let alone write anything worthy. This means I go to bed at 7:30 PM in order to roll out of bed at 3:00 AM. I’m used to it by now, my internal alarm set at nothing past 4:00. Who wants to sleep in anyway?
Oh, yeah. My husband.
Though I can no longer be a full-time writer, the full-time job is pretty wonderful. I have a steady paycheck now—money that I ration out between bills, weekly expenses, and fun stuff. I work close to home with practically no travel time and I love the people I work with. How many folks can say that? A positive attitude certainly helps, which I use to stay on task. Yes, becoming a successful, full-time author is moving a LOT slower than expected, but I’m good. Since I’m happy with my job, I can be patient.
My health, you ask? Yes, that is the sound of uncontrollable laughter bubbling out of my mouth. As an active writer, I reserve the right to subject myself to excessive inactivity, sleep deprivation and malnourishment. While my brain is in constant motion, my plan is (and has been for a long time) to start exercising my body tomorrow. Until then, I shall remain at high risk of diabetes, flat-butt, and deep vein thrombosis. That novel won’t write itself, after all, and it certainly won’t unfurl on a treadmill. Luckily I work for a hospital that promises incentives on healthcare in exchange for proof that I’ve been working toward a healthy diet and exercise. So it’s there for me when I decide to save sixty bucks a month by getting off my ass; which between work, kids, marriage and writing novels, who has the time?
Update: I did manage to squeeze in 30 minutes of walking for the last three days in a row. I broke a sweat, but not a big one, and I got to catch up on my Netflix shows. This regimen won’t win me any marathons, but for someone who only wears a Fitbit for those incoming texts, this is quite an accomplishment.