Tuesday, August 25

Sometimes We Do What We Gotta Do...

. . . even when we don’t want to do it. This week is one of those times. I’m tired of working. I’m out of the mood, I’m burned out, I’m over it. I want to stop. I’ve had to work on my table ever since I got home from my time with Son and Grandboy, I’ve even been working up here at the lake–something I really try to avoid doing. But, I have deadlines and wonderful clients whom I love who are paying me to get their project done. So, I’ll keep at it.

It’s odd to feel this way when I love my job as much as I do. I know exactly how fortunate I am to be able to earn what mostly constitutes a living while sitting at home in my jammies. I’m aware that I’m very blessed not having to go out each morning and drive through rush-hour traffic to get to a sterile office somewhere. Most people would envy me and no doubt get very snarky when I whine. I wouldn’t blame them, but even the best job in the world can get tiresome.

Most of all, right now, I want to write and when I’m on a tight deadline, that’s hard to do. I edit all day, taking one or two quick breaks for lunch and maybe a fast jaunt along the court and up the bay front road. I have supper with Husband and then come back to my lake office in the bedroom to keep working. By the time my eyes are so bleary I can no longer see, it’s too late to write. I go to bed, get a few hours’ sleep, and start all over again.

Yesterday, we went down to the neighbors for beer-thirty. It helped. Tomorrow, I’ll take a break, and maybe this guy will take me for a boat ride. But, when my work schedule is like this, I start perseverating over my novels, and I have to sit on my hands to keep from endlessly checking my rankings and sales numbers on Amazon and B&N. Where are my books ranked right now? Is anyone showing even a shred of interest in them? Will I ever be able to be simply a writer? Can I ever make a living that way?

I think the answer to that is probably, no. The highly successful, very well-paid novelist is a rare bird. Most of the published romance novelists I know have day jobs, so I know that I’m not alone. But sometimes, it depresses me when I have to set my writing aside to earn a living. Poor Nan! It’s a sad, sad tale, isn’t it?

Well, I’m on my last editing gig and in a couple of weeks, I’m off for a writing vacation with one of my very favorite people. I can write again soon. In the meantime, I’m making notes as I think about how I want my newest story to progress, plus, I’m taking time out to whine right now! All in all, I’m very lucky . . . and I do know it.


  1. We all have days like that. I even feel that way about writing when I get down to the last few chapters. Did you get the boat ride? :-)

    1. Not yet! Maybe next week when we come back up! Glad to hear I'm not alone here... ;-)

  2. I've felt *exactly* the same way...more times than I care to count. Hang in there, Nan!!

  3. I"ll make you feel better. It's back-to-school time around here so there are a lot of families--with crying children in hand--shopping for clothes. And they bring carts full back to the fitting rooms to only choose--mmm-two things. Well, those clothes don't just magically go back on the rack, we have to put them there.

    Yesterday I closed. And while I am in charge of Baby Depot, I also help in all other areas of the store. The fitting room had three racks of unsorted clothes to be returned to the floor as we hadn't had an attendant back there for the day shift.

    Not to mention the clothes on the floor, over the racks, hanging half off the hanger...kids tearing through the toy aisle, opening packages, stealing toys out of them (I wish Santa existed so he could "gift" those children with the boxes of toys they've destroyed), temper-tantrums that can be heard throughout the store, druggies trying to shoplift,

    To top off the night, there was younger, entitled Russian couple who didn't think they should have to leave the store before we closed. I passed them at 9:26 and told them we were closing in four minutes. The man said, "Thank you." in a tone that didn't sound thankful in the least. And they continued toward the back of the store. They went into the fitting rooms at 9:27. FInally they made their way up the registers, after many announcements of our closure, around 9:35.

    They complained that we were "pushing them out the door" and that we provided bad customer service. They wanted to talk to the manager on duty--who was standing by the door beckoning them--then refused to talk to her because she wasn't an important enough manager.

    SO glad I have today and tomorrow off. Did my horror story help you at all?

    1. Yikes! You're a saint to work retail, baby!