I love summer. The weather, the cookouts, not setting an alarm. Hell, I don’t even mind sweating. But for the life of me I can’t get my shit together in the summer.
My kids are old enough to leave home alone for a couple of hours. They can make their own lunch and entertain themselves just fine. Unless I’m trying to write. Then they need my attention more than anything in the entire world. As I write this my daughter is trying to make me declare my favorite Bob’s Burgers Monopoly character and she has the visual aids right up in my face. Not that I can blame my kids. I'm not great with time budgeting even when they're gone all day. But the distractions they create can rapidly derail me.
I bought one of those fancy organizers that is supposed to help you meet your goals. My dog promptly ate the cover. It’s still usable, but my enthusiasm for it was affected.
It feels like I’m constantly struggling to keep my head above water. I have more projects going than I’ll ever finish if I don’t figure out how to focus. So I’ll just keep trying. Maybe I should get up earlier or stay up later. Or maybe just demand that I am allowed time to work. No matter what I’ll keep the words coming out, even if they come out as more of a sprinkle than a waterfall for a while.