I want to write so much but I feel like I can’t find the time. I get home from work around 5:45pm and usually, I start cleaning the house immediately–picking up from the night before, washing dishes I left in the sink, folding laundry I left in the dryer, hanging up clothes I left in the basket, etc.–then we sit down to dinner and it’s about 7:00. I now have 3 hours to hang out with my wife before she follows her strict sleep schedule. And I’m exhausted. And I don’t actually want to write. I don’t want to go through the actions. But I want it to happen. But it doesn’t. And then the next day I work my second job and as soon I’m home and I’ve let the dog out, I leave and don’t get home until after 9. And on those nights, I’m definitely not writing (except for that one time…).
I wish this could be my full-time job.
I would create my own knockoff Wirecutter where I don’t necessarily tell you which product is best, I just tell you how I feel about the products I do know.
Thursday Thoughts would actually happen every Thursday.
I’d have more time in my day to do things and then I’d have fun topics to write about.
Buuut I need to make money. Because we have now started grocery shopping at the Dollar Store. And I spent my entire 23-minute commute to work wondering if I should just sell all my eggs. (My uterus eggs, not my fridge eggs. Is that necessary to clarify? Not sure…).
I can’t wait until we can look back on this part of our lives and say, “remember when we were so broke and miserable and we joked about feeding our future babies Dollar Store formula while we snacked on dollar frozen pizza that expired three years ago?”
It’s 11:00pm on a Monday and we’re a few weeks from the biggest spending time of year and I think I have 20 bucks to get me through the month and my credit card debt feels insurmountable and can I just sell my body for an hour to make this all go away?
But I started writing a book tonight. Talking to John regularly gives me inspiration. Maybe this will be the big break. NY Times Bestseller here we come.
There’s a cat on my lap. I think it’s time for HGTV.
P.S. I wrote this one-handed again. There may be typos. Oh, well.
thank you, Riverdale (and Donnie Darko, of course)