I’ve been home from vacation two weeks yesterday. I started working again immediately after getting home, finally starting up a permanently set schedule. It’s been very nice to have that repetition, even though it’s only been these two weeks, and I feel like I’m finally settling into a routine.
But I haven’t… been able to figure out how to write around this job yet. I want to. I know I need to. It was one of the things that having a permanently set schedule was going to allow me to do. And I’ve been telling myself that once I had a schedule that didn’t change I would be able to figure out the timing. Now… I just need to do that.
In addition to my fictive writing, I need to figure out how to slot this blog into my life as well. I have a few things that I started writing months ago that I need to finish. I have two book reviews, one half written and the other just swirling around in my head. Still another book review will require me to finish the book—and reading is something else that is hard to arrange around the necessary tasks of life—and another two books that I will have to start reading before I can even think about reviewing them.
And possibly I have some thoughts on Lucy and Godzilla.
It would be nice if there were more of me; a hive-mind collection of me’s. At least three more of me, because I need at least that many more sets of hands. I could read all the books I wanted to read, write all the things I want to write, knit all the things I want to knit, and watch all the things I want to watch. Until I figure out a way to eliminate sleep entirely—or until I decide that I can operate on a 36-hour day—there’s simply too many things I want to do/create/know/hear/see.
I have a day off coming up. Maybe I can get some things done then.