WHEW!

May. 19th, 2016 09:49 am
blairmacg: (FeatherFlow)
Five days ago, I mentioned to Facebook friends that I had a book release, two self-defense articles, and a website content project (for another client, not for me) all coming in the next month, and would be topping it off by heading to 4th Street Fantasy Convention.

This meant I didn't take time to read through and respond to any SFWA message board info, nor jump in to prod and/or propose and/or complete myself any SFWA committee business. Instead, I knuckled down on work that puts money in my pocket--necessary, since I've no pockets but my own from which to fund this life of mine--and did life-things like shared dinner with my son, attended my nephews' community theater performance, and scouted the local farmer's market.

And you know what?

I feel guilty today, because I didn't dive into conversations for less than a week.

There is something wrong with that.

I've written often about the importance of prioritizing one's life work, and about how my choice to self-publish is one way I support my priorities. I write on it and speak on it because I do things like... like feel guilty for not doing volunteer work in addition to everything else. I write on it, and speak on it, because I need the reminders myself.

Really, I know it's silly of me. I know, realistically, that anyone who wants to bitch about a few days' absence isn't worth my time. Not that anyone IS bitching, mind you. For heaven's sake, no one has any reason to NOTICE my absence, let alone give any time COMPLAINING about it!

So... it's my internal voice doing all the bitching. The voice that shouldn't be worth my time! The voice that tells me, always, I ought to be doing more, helping more, achieving more, connecting more, sharing more. It's a nasty, nasty internal voice, and I do wish I knew where it came from. I didn't come from a family that invested huge amounts of time and energy as volunteers. I was the family member always trying to get everyone else to show up at the soup kitchen, or sell things door-to-door for a cause, or .

Nope, this one can't be blamed on family dynamics or life's challenges. This is a quirk, an oddity, a damaging trait that's all mine. And it's damned annoying, knowing it's there, and knowing each time the self-talk I need to do to counter it, and knowing it'll pop back up regardless.

And you know what? Now I'm worried about posting this, because I took the time to write it rather than read through the discussions I missed.

blairmacg: (FeatherFlow)
No, it hasn't been a bad day.

Instead, it's one of those wake-up too early even though you wrote until almost three in the morn, discover an email about a piece of paper that must be submitted to a certain government agency by the "deadline on the original letter," dig up letter, confirm date is a mere 48 hours in the future, try to log on to the website you haven't visited in six months, discover your first three guesses at the password are wrong, get locked out of the account, read the passwords were automatically reset by the government agency three months ago anyway, spend almost an hour on the phone either waiting for a representative or talking to one, finally gain a new password, attempt to review personal data on the site, accidentally wipe out most of it, then take another half hour to re-enter it while dojo staff calls with questions about next week's summer camp and your mother texts you about the fact your father will be showing up on your doorstep in less than an hour, and realizing you haven't even yet changed out of your PJ's and it's after two in the afternoon kind of days.

Now the paperwork issue is resolved, the camp questions are answered, and I've 90 minutes before heading to the dojo.

On the other hand... remember that writing thing I mentioned above?

Almost two thousand words of a new opening chapter. Breath of Stone is officially underway!

And no, I've not heard a peep from the kid yet, and I'll be surprised if I do. I told him he didn't have to call me at all unless he needed something. He's only there for a short time, and the last thing I want is him feeling obligated to call his mother. Since the majority of folks on the trip are adults, and the teens are all sixteen and seventeen, I suspect he's getting the experience of Being An Adult as well.

Doesn't mean I don't miss him, but that's mine to deal with, not his to fix.

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