I am not currently comfortable making sure so many things are checked off my list of todos. This is a struggle getting through this revision/edit and that is ok. I am pushing things around each day,  determining what is the struggle today, making that my priority for the day. This whole week it has been this writing work that has slayed me. But I have persevered. The goal for this week after today, if I get through the packet for today will be met. (Approximately ten pages, no less, maybe a few more depending on where I can put a pin in the scene until the next work day.) In doing that was some success.) But. I did not take care of me. No exercise, no yoga, no focus or energy beyond the daily shower and dog care. The Hub of my Wheel of Life has been a studly wall of support and picked up the chasm left by my struggle to get the most important work only I can do this whole week. Talk about a being a father. Some times he has to fill my Daddy’s shoes. Dad would have told me I can do it. Try, any effort is better than no effort. I have washed a few dishes and brought The Hub a glass of Kool-Aid. I think I may have cleaned the bathroom mirror and sink one day, it could just be a wishful imagining on my part. But the effort was pittance in the foundation of responsibility in being an adult. He even let me read to him and tried to help me discern the words here and there that I was trying to find. (Most often he would interject a synonym that wasn’t quite what I was searching for but was a crumb that led me on a thesaurus trek to find the exact meaning I was seeking to represent in one set of letters that would crack open a reader’s thoughts into the scene or character. Such a meaningful assist; big score, My Dude!

There is so much here that has been gained by this deviation. Knocking out the pages of this revision. Coming to terms with how far from finishing I am, but seeing that the time is well spent. Reminding myself that this has truly all been a long time coming. I have pushed my dream, my calling, my thing that I can not not do despite it being something that is not a secure means of supporting its own state of existence, or being able to live off of. This has been such a frustration. I have always known that, and I have sought out so many other means of existing and being. Taking my roles in life seriously and showed up every day, even when it was the hardest. I study. I criticize myself, and do far more damage to my ego and confidence than anyone else. But still this  . . . drive? I don’t know what to call it. This. Letters and spaces and marks to tell you to stop. Take a breath, move on. This is not how it all appears in my head. The thoughts and ideas, sometimes it is living pictures, snippets of phrases, and emotions. Mostly it is a question, ‘what if?’. Ah see that lonely little period, man, I love how the Brits put that period outside the quotation mark. It is the struggle to learn all the grammar and punctuation so I know what and why I am abusing those rules that someone loftier than me has decided is the ‘norm,’ the status quo for the rest of us to follow.

Sigh. I have to get this ended so that I can get to work on the ten pages for today. See you when this revision is done. Wish me luck.