The Summer Where I Got Nothing Done

Labor Day is coming, and I look at this blog and want to weep.

The worst part of people finding out you’re a writer means they want you to spend time writing stuff you don’t want to write. I quit the freelancing racket over a year ago because I was back to being employed full-time and I wanted to focus on my novels, maybe even crank out a few short stories again.

Nope, not happening.

July came and went due to the county planning commission editing their bylaws, and me being the secretary means I can drop everything and hammer out twenty pages of rules, procedures and citing portions of state law that have silcrows (THIS THING -> ยง ) in them, right? It took me three weeks to get it done. A month later after I retyped this twenty page document, edited the bad grammar, improper punctuation and spent time looking up state law to make sure I did everything correctly, the County Commissioner liaison decided all of my work could be thrown out the window because she looked at the bylaws from another county and they only had four pages. Four pages is easier to read through than twenty. I could have told her that. Punctuate this with my mother needing cataract surgery, I was in and out of the doctor’s office, the optometrist’s office, and the cat managed to get sick.

And that was July.

August came, and I had to cram all of the work getting ready for the school year into a matter of weeks which means I once again had to put my creative writing aside and work.

It never ends. It’s a vicious cycle. I accomplished nothing I wanted to do this summer, and now the summer’s over. At least this fall I start work prepared, which means less time scrambling night and day putting my school day together. That’s something to be happy about, right? Nanowrimo’s coming up too.

Who am I kidding …

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