Living in town this past month has been all consuming. This may sound like an odd statement, but that's how it feels. Yes, things are more convenient. I don't have to wonder if we have enough power to turn on the tv, don't have to freeze when I get out of the shower, haul our clothes to the laundromat, buy a winter's worth of groceries when I'm at the store, or heat up water on the stove to do the dishes. Best of all, I don't have to drive down our icy 65 degree angled driveway. Things are easy. So why do they feel hard?
I had grand visions of all the writing I was going to get done while I lived here. I brought my mid-grade novel, my screenplays, and all my picture books(I counted last night. There are over thirty in various stages of development and I didn't count the hastily scribbled ones. So depressing). Unfortunately I've nary done a lick of writing since I got here. And I'm starting to get a little irritated about it.
I do have random reasons:
1. I don't have my same exact writing spot.
2. It's too noisy here.
3. People come over every single day. No one ever comes over when I'm up on the mountain.
4. I'm waiting to hear on a requested manuscript from an agent and on another agent sub and they're both taking longer than they're taking other people's subs to the same places(I've been watching the blue board closely). Did they even get them?
5. My kids cannot just go outside and play here. The yard is totally dinky and I have to make sure my little one doesn't go out into the street. They need constant entertainment and supervision, even more than before!
6. We just put an offer in on a house and are starting a business which equals money pouring out.
7. I have to go talk to the 1st grade class. Then the 4th grade class. They want me to do the whole school.
8. I have a job interview on Thursday. I haven't had a "job" in over ten years.
9. There are people I have to work with(in volunteer capacity) that are being really lame.
10. I feel like I am on display here. I have to have the curtains open because it is sooo dark. No one else in the neighborhood seems to have theirs open. Why is that? Maybe because sometimes you forget and walk through the room naked? Or sing and dance like some bad eighties rock star while sweeping the floor? No, it's just cold--that's it.
11. There is no fireplace here to warm up by. I have to huddle by the electric space heater.
12. My cat is being really annoying. I think she hates it here. We'll be lucky to have a couch left by the end of winter.
13. I keep having all these other weird ideas of things I want to do like create new websites and bake, and learn to play the guitar--things that have nothing to do with my writing. My house is so clean it's driving my crazy!(And man, doing housework all the time is so boring! Why do I keep doing it?)
That's enough isn't it? I can do more. I'm hoping by writing this down I will break free. There is no curse about not being able to write because you're somewhere new, right? I am not a person that has to be in one single place. I am a mental vagabond, free to roam wherever I please. I just need a piece of paper and a pen! And maybe a little time to myself.