15 October 2008
Whack! I finish a draft of my book. Hooray! Uh, oh. Up pops a deadline for a proposal.
Whack! I get an ophthalmologist appointment out of the way. Hooray! Uh, oh. Up pops three follow-up eye appointments and a prescription to take to the pharmacy.
Whack! I clear enough work from my schedule that I can spend my weekend on chores. Hooray! Uh, oh. Up pops a cold that immobilizes me for both days.
I wish that, like the kids’ game, there were only four moles in my Whac-A-Mole life. But instead, the moles seem limitless. Anything I shove into my tight schedule pops something else out. Now that I work on my fiction every weekday, moles are flying everywhere.
Exercise? I think it landed behind the couch.
Hobbies? Duck! Some chores just went flying.
Reading about the craft of writing? Only at the expense of actual writing and chores my husband wishes I would do.
Reading in my genre to stay abreast of trends? In doctors’ waiting rooms and just before bed when I’m too tired to do anything else.
Reading for fun? I look forward to getting so sick that I can’t do anything more strenuous than hold a book.
Does anyone else lead a Whac-A-Mole life? Anybody have any hints for stuffing more moles into a 24-hour box?