Wow… 2016. What a way to start off.

I remember as I glanced back over my shoulder at the previous year, I chuckled. This year… This would be my year.

Fast forward to May.

As my birthday came and went, I had a brief moment of clarity. I hadn’t written a single thing since I reused an old draft for my singular post in February. This got me thinking I should probably make sure my laptop is still alive (spoiler: it is) and maybe do some writing.

I could blame my lack of writing on work. After all, stocktake for a manager during retail is a trying time and your routine gets all shot to hell. There are a few weeks of prep and then a week of mostly night shifts and then back into days with recounts. That would be a good reason. But no, that’s not it.

I could blame it on the surprise operation I had on my toe. After all, I was limping around like some sort of zombie and that took quite the toll. Also, not knowing I was about to have a surgery wasn’t exactly a pleasant surprise (I’m still not sure which pain was worse either). But no, that’s not it either.

I could blame it on building a house. Now there’s quite the task and the many smaller tasks that go with it. First off, I feel like 99% of building a house is bumbling around trying to find help and not get swindled out of your current and future life savings. This being an adult thing is hard. But no, that’s still not it!

I could blame it on the fact I finished a novel. Wait! That’s a good thing, isn’t it? It is, but it’s also hard to figure out what to do now. Every ounce of me wants to just put it online for people to see and start getting feedback but that world, my world, deserves better. Before sending it out, it’d be great to have an editor love it. That could definitely be it.

I could blame all of these things together. I could. I’m mentally exhausted. I’m physically worn down. I’m confused on building and writing. I stay positive no matter what happens at work. I invest my time into keeping my sanity.

No.

I haven’t written because I have made that choice.

 

Every day, since February, I have done nothing but zone out to the TV or play Pokemon (I did, however, Catch ’em all) because that was easier. The characters never stop pestering me. They try and entice me with magnificent tales and magic moments that fit directly into my story world at large. Characters plot against one another and conspire to overthrow governments while I shower. There have been times when I wonder if asylums are simply filled with writers who can’t ignore the voices.

I would love to say that today is the turning point. That today I will be the writer I want to be. But for now? I’m still exhausted mentally. I’m emotionally worn down. My mind is trying to figure out this bloody building tender. My first novel begs to be published and I’ve no idea where to start.

As a realist, I need to figure out this house thing first. Secondly, I need to survive until my family comes to visit in July. Thirdly, I need to get back into the habit of writing.

Well… at least I’ve got a start on one thing!