It's been so long since I moved that I forgot how much work it is. Let's back up... on December 31st I signed a rental leased and got a home (finally) after two years of searching I am moving away from family and into a place where my husband and two kids can grow up.
This of course happened right at the end of my holiday break. So paperwork is signed the 31st... we move a few trips of boxes the 1st... and I'm back to 40 hrs a week at work. So I knew during this time that my writing would be put on the back burner as I shifted into the new place, but I had a plan. It'd take two weekends for us to be fully moved in.
As many of you probably know... the best laid plans are normally flawed. I didn't factor in the random ice storm that took out two of my days in the weekend. I didn't factor in how tired I'd be from moving so much or my week at the second job draining my energy and time.
So writing goes further back on the burner. And doesn't it always happen that when you can't write you really REALLY want to? Cause the past few days I've had the urge to write, stronger than I have had in the past several months.
What's a girl to do? Well... I write. Yeah, it's not for long periods of time, it's not even anything super exciting... but I write. A little here, ten minutes on my break, five minutes in the morning when I'm ready and the little one is still putting on shoes. Two minutes at night when my eyes are so heavy I'm fairly sure the words aren't really even words. I just write, and know, that the move, though taking longer than I'd like, will be done soon.
And I mean... Gilchrist is just around the corner, and after my day of just sleeping, that I'll be making up for my lost writing time there.