An Update (of Sorts)

I had a book review drafted for today, and all I had to do was edit, post, and bam! Time saved. But when I sat down to edit, I found I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Because apparently my brain wants to talk about something else right now, even though Mondays are supposed to be for book reviews. 

So naturally, I had to start at square one. Thank you, brain. I love you so much. I hope you choke on your coffee. 

*grumbles* 

During my blogging hiatus, I didn’t get caught up on answering comments like I had hoped to, but I did manage to finish my next-to-last draft of DRACONIAN with time to spare. (In other words, the next round of edits will be mostly focused on catching typos and grammar/punctuation mess-ups. I feel about as qualified for this process as a beaver. Excuse me while I chew up my manuscript and build a house with its goopy remains.) After work on Friday, I sat at Starbucks for four hours and drafted all but two of the posts I expect to need for October and November. I plan to prioritize editing all of those, writing extra posts, commenting on blogs, and answering comments and emails. After that, I intend to polish DRACONIAN, edit my query letter and personalize it to each agent, and write the synopsis for DRACONIAN, before switching gears and finalizing my plans/goals for NaNoWriMo. *hyperventilates* 

I would really appreciate your prayers. There’s so much work I want/need to get done, and because I’m always exhausted (especially if I get more than seven hours of sleep a night), it can be difficult to gauge when I need to push myself and when I need to rest. And when I do take breaks, I turn into a sad, purposeless potato. Case in point: Last week I decided to reward myself with my first official vacation from writing this year. I had planned to ditch my schedule, read all the books, and watch all the Star Trek. But I ended up letting myself sleep in a ton and take lots of naps, which was a mistake, because then I ended up too tired to do much of anything else. Like I said, I don't benefit from getting extra sleep. Not only does it worsen my fatigue, but it also gives me joint pain, so that's fun. Unfortunately, I like sleeping, and Tired Brain likes to forget that sleep doesn’t fix things. 

All that to say, I took a vacation and ended up more discouraged than rested. More and more, I’m finding that when I don’t have a writing work-load, I don’t have anything my brain considers worth waking up for. Now that I’m back to work, my attitude is better. But I’m still tired. All. The. Time. And even though this has been a thing for about six years, it’s still difficult to push myself to get up every morning and sit my butt down in front of my laptop, especially since I have yet to see any money for my efforts in this field. 

I don’t want to complain, because I really am blessed. Even though it takes more energy from me than I feel I can spare, I’m glad to have a job on the weekends. It’s been rewarding to be able to place absurdly large book orders and help my sister with the bills. 

In case you thought I was exaggerating. 

And there’s another, slightly smaller order on the way. 

No, I do not have a problem. *eyelid twitches*

(Before you judge me, no, I am not blowing my entire paycheck on books. 

That would be irresponsible. I’m blowing less than a quarter of my monthly pay.)

(Okay, so I have a problem. Fight me.)

Even though I’m usually ready to call it a night by the time I finish my morning shower, I’m glad that I’m somehow still able to fill my weekdays with reading and writing. And even though coffee doesn’t have much of an effect on me, it’s still delicious and nostalgic, and it still manages to sharpen my mind sometimes. As long as I focus on these (and other) positive aspects, I can keep moving forward. 

However, I often get scared for my future. Like, really scared. Before you ask, by all rights, I should be a healthy person. I am Lyme free. I don’t have leukemia or thyroid problems. I don’t have a brain tumor. My kidneys are fine. It’s just that I’ve only had three days in my memory where I didn’t feel exhausted before lunch. And work makes this worse. Also, I refer to the aforementioned joint pain. I don’t actually know how I managed to work for nine-and-a-half hours yesterday when half the time the pain was so bad I felt like I was going to puke. Fortunately, I only work from Friday to Sunday, so I have Monday through Thursday to recover before the next round. That’s usually enough time. But I can start to get panicky when I think about the possibility that I might never get enough money from writing to support myself, that my sister might not be able to continue helping me financially a couple years down the road, that I might have to get a labor-intensive full-time job. If I struggle now working roughly 21 hours a week, what’s it going to be like if I have to do 40 or more. To be quite frank, I don’t cry a lot, but thinking about that makes me cry, because I know my body, and I know I don’t have the energy for that. I don’t even want to think about University. These things would literally take a miracle. 

Honestly though, it’s not my job to worry about the future. My worry will not change a thing, except to drain me more. Besides, God has always taken care of my needs, and he’s not going to stop. I should focus on that instead. Despite all these little obstacles, I have so much going for me, it isn’t even funny. I’ve already been given a great writing education. I’ve already had some agent interest. I’ve already ended up with more support than I deserve. I’m still young, and there’s still time. Even if I never succeed the way I want to succeed, it will be okay. So when I inevitably start to whine on this blog, please slap me upside the head and remind me of how good I have it. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? I’m sure you all have your own daily struggles. How do you deal with them? How are you? (And be honest, I really want to know.)