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Remember the real world

Sitting on the train, heading the the place I affectionately call The Bill Payer, I wondered how I got from Friday afternoon until Monday morning. No, there wasn’t any alcohol involved — wait I’m telling a fib, I did have one Bud Light — it was just that the days passed me with the speed of an express train. Here it is, the start of the business week and, while I feel refreshed, still feel that I needed just one more day.

Between Saturdays being the day to catch up with family and friends, and Sundays reserved for First Step Press, Friday becomes my vegetative day. Many people like to go out on Friday nights. Unless I have somewhere to be, I would rather enjoy watching something on Netflix or gaming on the Xbox 360. It’s the only time that I can say is time for me to unwind an enjoy being a geek. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, I enjoy those five hours that I’m AFK (away from keyboard) and it’s the only time that I allow myself to refrain from working. (Okay, I will respond to instant messages, but that is different.)

My weekly evening routine is pretty, well, routine. I come home, catch up on the days events with the kids. Have dinner and write for a few hours until bedtime. Sometimes I will swap out writing for doing FSP work if I am behind. I rinse and repeat daily. The kids know where I am should anyone catch on fire and, while they may pop in a few minutes here and there, they pretty much do their own thing. (I guess I’m one of the few parents that go to bed before their kids, at least during the summer.) They’re pretty good about giving me the few hours I have to write during the week. So, I try to make Saturdays about them. Sometimes we’ll all go out, but most of the time it’s about doing fun things in and around home.

While I know there is nothing wrong with working hard to achieve my goal, it is important for me to know that there is a world outside the one I create in my head. I spent a lot of time fighting for my space in which to write. I spent many hours explaining how important my writing is to me. And now that my family gave me the space I needed, it is important for me to show my appreciation for their understanding and their patience. They may not understand why I spend hours locked away, either talking to myself or staring into my own thoughts, but they love me, inspire me and encourage me, even when I sometimes doubt myself.

Published in On My Mind

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