Tempus f*#$it!

Lately time has been a major concern of mine. Specifically, the lack of it.

Actually, that’s a lie. I have lots of time. It’s just that, probably for the first time in my life, I have passion. There is so much that I really want to do. Every day I want to be out taking photos and then coming home and spending hours Photoshopping. I want to write and write and write and perhaps even finish one of the 21 stories I have going at the moment (I may have started a few more since I last posted about writing). Not all of them are good or going somewhere, but I need to write them to find out. I want to finish editing the manuscripts that writer friends keep sending me because it’s just so much fun to be able to in some small way assist these great writers. I want to practice yoga until I can do away with my blocks, touch the floor with straight legs and maybe even manage to hold the Half-Moon Pose. I want to read the mounting stack of fascinating photography magazines and books that my family keep giving me. I want to update this blog more than once a month.

Strangely, it feels like all of this has piled up on top of my long work days and I just don’t want to do any of it. Do you know how annoying that is? What kind of messed up freak discovers their passion, delves into it in earnest to make it the focus of their life and then turns all apathetic? That’s not how it’s supposed to work!

Yes, I should be losing interest in my day job because it’s stifling and toxic at the moment.

Yes, I should be getting more and more involved in my creative endeavours because they bring me joy and purpose.

No, I should not be coming home from work, glancing guiltily at my yoga mat, To Read pile, computer and camera, getting all anxious about the amount of stuff to do and spending the evening watching Big Bang Theory re-runs. WTF?!

A writer friend asked me if I wanted to join him in doing NaNoWriMo next month. I almost had a panic attack. It’s taken me a whole week to rev myself up enough to write a 500-word blog post. There’s no way I could manage upwards of 1,500 words a day at the moment.

My journey into the forest must have accidentally turned into a dead-end canyon. Filled with clinging brambles. And probably snakes, too. But with a very comfy couch…

On the other hand, I did spend all Sunday putting together a photo book of pictures from one of my most epic vacations, which has been on my To Do list since 2011. And I did spend ten minutes yesterday halfheartedly flailing around on my yoga mat, which is more than I’ve done in a few weeks and I guess counts for something. And, hey–I just wrote a blog post. So maybe this is just a bit of a block that I have to patiently work my way through.

And there’s only six weeks until I go part-time at work. Maybe that extra day a week will make all the difference.

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