It was 3:30pm and my legs were killing me. I was famished, hadn’t eaten a bite all day and had been on my feet without respite, starting at exercise boot camp and then at work afterwards for 6.5 hours.
“I have to go,” I told him. “My feet are like the truth: they hurt.”
“The truth shall set you free,” he answered.
Oy, I staggered out of work and made my way to the train. Of course it was the 1, which is like, the slowest train since the advent of forward motion. I step in. It’s full. WHY, oh why, was it full at 3:30 in the afternoon? I cursed the other part-timers. I cursed children. I cursed the dregs of society. I cursed society at large, just to get that out of the way, too. Then I focused on balancing.
When I got home, I about fell into a burger. I’d poured wine, too, but forgot about it until I looked up from the remains. Gulped that down and put my aching feet up. Didn’t write a jot. I feel so angry about it…
I don’t begrudge the time working. But then on the side I’ve got to look for permanent full-time work that can really keep me afloat, and I have to write, which I hate putting on the side like this, and then I so crucially need to take care of my life–my friends, my family. I hate shortchanging them; it shortchanges me too. How to balance it all????
I’m thinking my wake-up time’s gotta shift from 5:02 to maybe 4:37. Only I have a strong aversion to any time that starts with a 4 in the hour slot. But I’ll have to get over it. Then, after work, I simply must find a way to write, immediately, without any stops to gasp at sore feet or empty tummies or whatnot. That way I can also relegate Sundays to hanging out with friends, and maybe one other weekday evening… Is that a plan?
I’ll try it starting today. Tomorrow is a lie. Always has been.
Definitely feeling very overwhelmed with time right now. That’s the truth. Will it set me free?