“Time.”
“Time wounds all heals.“
For those who don’t know, that’s a quote from Farscape, one of my most-favoritest shows ever. The main character, John Crichton, says it to a multi-dimensional time-traveling being, nicknamed Einstein, right in the middle of figuring out that he could theoretically use wormholes to travel to, not just different places in space, but to different times and realities. John, of course, is being a bit flippant, but Einstein’s point is that traveling through time/space/dimensions, is VERY dangerous, a lesson John learns quite well.
Of course, here in the real world, time is not quite so fragile. It is, however, still quite dangerous, if not in a different way. For example: What if you wanted to write a book. Well, one would think you would just plop your ass down and write, right? Ah, but time is never that simple. Sometimes you’ll sit and time will move very quickly, shooting minutes past you before you can get a few words down. Other times you get lucky and you get to shoot the words down faster than the minutes come. And SOMEtimes, time slips by you without you even sitting down to write.
Some people might think I’m talking about writer’s block or being lazy. No. Writer’s block is when you don’t know what the hell to write. And laziness? That’s what keeps me from chopping down the 28-inch tall weeds in my backyard (not EVEN kidding). No, I’m talking about how there is often just not enough time to get in the writing I want to do. Well, not enough time to get the writing in AND do everything else I want. In this, I think Time is a bit of a fickle bitch.
Time likes to grant you its boons just when you are not able to use them. A while ago, I was unemployed and going through a rough patch. My mind was in no place to write. I suppose it was a form of depression, though not necessarily the clinical kind, if that is even the way to look at it. Predictably, this is when Time decided to grant me plenty of hours with which to write.
On the other hand, When I get back into writing and the words can seem to flow like a steady stream of water from the faucet with good water pressure, Time comes along and says Nah-ah-ah… It even waggles its finger in my face for emphasis. See, now that I’m in a good emotional and creative place to write, I’ve also got a regular job, plenty of housework to do, taxes, book covers, video games and companionship responsibilities (Read doing things with the wife and kids when they’re willing. Don’t mistake, these are not responsibilities in the sense that I don’t want to do them. They are things that I need to do for me and the health of these relationships.). THAT is when Time flips me the bird and yanks all the bonus minutes away.
Yes, of course I could sacrifice some of my video game time for writing, and I have somewhat. But godsdammit, I need that time for my mental stability! If I don’t kill a few zombies every week someone’s going to get hurt in the real world, dammit!
The truth is, I suppose I’m looking a gift-horse in the mouth and whining a bit. I’ve got a job that mostly pays the bills and all the people in my household are relatively healthy and well fed. Maybe I just need to get a little creative. I’ve got a few days of PTO built up. Maybe I could take a day to stay home and write?
Aw, who am I kidding? I’d probably just go for a few extra headshots on those zombies.