I woke up this morning basically horrified.
What am I doing?
What have I been doing for the past few weeks?
Granted, I have been working, I really have. I've had interviews and meetings and I've been writing and rehashing and sending things out and really....never finishing a thing.
It is time, I thought, to re-harness my awesome.
Being awesome is hard work, eventually the awesome is going to have to abate, to live with that kind of energy is hard work. But I felt myself settling in, burrowing in in fact. This morning I popped my head out and thought "what the goddamn fuck is going on here?"
I almost think I've had too much time to finish my work. I've been putting this Boystown tour together for weeks and weeks and I keep getting bogged down in history or someone I haven't talked to yet, or just when it is I'm going to make it back down there...it's time for this to be ready, it's time to take the next steps (marketing), it's time to finish that piece I'm doing for a reading tomorrow night, it's time to set up that appointment with the accountant (even though I really don't want to), it's just...time.
I lose sight of what I'm doing this for sometimes. And what I'm doing this for is John and me and our marriage. I'm doing this so we can travel, I'm doing this so NEVER AGAIN will we have to rely on someone else for our income, I'm doing this so we can go to India in November.
But the most important thing is: I'm doing this.