It’s the school holidays so needless to say … AARRGGHH!!
My time is no longer my own; neither is my mind.
A nightmare to be sure, to be sure. It’s bad enough working from home but having to deal with the chicklin’s as well—makes me downright borderline crazy. Writing doesn’t happen very often during the two weeks the kids have off. So this year, instead of stressing out because I can’t write, I’ve downgraded my anxiety to a more manageable level. By manageable I mean I’m not pulling out my hair.
No longer will I feel frustrated by not being able to focus on one story. Little ideas can be dot pointed. A line here or there will (after the I’m always hungry and I’m always bored go back to school) be fleshed out when time permits.
My sanity might return a week after they go back. Oh God! I hope it returns.
There has been one interesting development. I used one of my writing tools, my trusty whiteboard as a means of getting my message across. If we tidy the house up as a family, including a list and sub list of all the chores that need to be done by lunchtime, they can have the rest of the day to themselves. It has saved me a lot of yelling and I’m kicking myself because it’s actually working and I should have tried that years ago. There is a reward of course. We get to go to the movies. But in order to make sure there are no arguments over which movie, they both get to pick one, so I guess I have to save up and go twice. What a shame?
Until then my fellow stressed out writers,