I’m busier than normal this time of year, thanks to the three and a half teenagers I call mine. If I am not picking one up from after-school activities, then I am taxiing another to the mall with her friends one last time before summer starts because they won’t see each other again since school is ending, or I am attending a grade-school graduation in a high school gymnasium, where my seating options consist of hard bleachers or the floor.
Obviously the experience is still fresh in my mind, but something like that just sucks the life out of you. I’ve been home for a few hours now and I can’t seem to muster up the motivation to write.
But I’m writing now, you say. Ah, yes, but I’m not writing writing. Composing a blog – that’s writing. Working on your next chapter, editing the twenty or so pages of your script, pushing through your writer’s block – that’s writing writing. The former consists of a blurb, an idea, a thought, while the latter fleshes it out, requires more time and commitment and is generally more…more.
Both are equally important; writing just seems infinitely easier, especially when all you’d rather do is bum around the house and/or vegetate in front of the television. And honestly, I want to be lazy, to not do anything or have anyone depend on me. To get up late and stay in bed. To come home early and maybe read a book. To forget my responsibilities and take a much needed rest. Because if I can’t get adequate rest, then creating worlds, developing ideas and bringing characters together won’t be as fun as it should be. Writing or writing writing loses it’s pleasure.
Maybe tonight isn’t about doing what’s easier or finding my motivation. I mean, will my writing writing be good if I’m tired? Perhap I am writing out of guilt.
Whatever it is, it’s probably good for me to be lazy for a while. I need rest, just like the next person. I am regenerated in my inactivity. And it’s not like I’ll be busy forever; my schedule will change again: my daughter will see her friends next week at summer camp so we can forget the mall, I won’t have to pick anyone up from after school activities (at least for the next ten weeks and my youngest doesn’t celebrate another graduation for seven years. I can afford to be lazy tonight…just as soon as I finish writing/writing writing.