I have decided to make writing my job. I read these two posts on wordbitches and Kristen Lamb’s blog, both on treating writing like a job and realized that I owe it to myself and to my family, really, to take myself more seriously. Instead of a word count, I will be working on hours a day. I want a part time job of 20 hours a week. I have to take what I really and truly want more seriously. I want to write. So I start my new job on Monday.
The other job I am giving myself is to get in shape. I will be 40 in a year. I have written about how excited I am about this. When I mentioned in my book group that I was dreading my birthday, they asked me if it was my 30th. They drink wine during book group. A LOT of wine. But I must say I take pretty good care of my skin. I’m masking right now.
My friend Elena Aitken gave me a workout schedule to run a 5k in March and doing something with weights on off days. It may actually kill me. Right now, the only part of my body that doesn’t hurt is my fingers. Otherwise I would not be able to type this. Which is good because I’m starting my other job on Monday.
But between these two things, I’ve got to cut down on something. I jog while watching TV or I do laundry while studying medicine (by watching House or Grey’s Anatomy. Their medical experts are the closest I will get to medical school.)
So I can keep TV and laundry. I don’t clean my house now so I can’t really give that up.
I think personal hygiene may have to go because at my age it takes a REALLY long time to look good. You have to keep masks on for ten minutes and then rinse AFTER you have already washed your face. It’s a whole extra step.
I also think giving it up will give me more time to write because no one will want to be around me. But like most artists, I will sacrifice for my art.