Monday, November 17, 2008
This is not what I want to do
I returned to work today after being off since last Wednesday. I didn't really do anything or go anywhere. All I did was relax. I did some book editing and spent time with my husband, who was off as well. I've never been one who needed to come and go a lot so that was fine with me.
We were suppose to visit a friend who lives in upstate New York but something is wrong with our car and my husband didn't want to chance the drive. We decided to stay home.
We got up early yesterday and ran some errands. I was in good spirits, even though I usually like to spend Sundays at home. Around 5:00, I noticed that my mood was changing. My energy level was going down and I felt a little sad. I had no idea what the hell was going on with me.
I like to sit on the foot of my bed at night and edit my book while my husband is sleeping. He always goes to sleep first. I reluctantly went to bed around midnight. I'd gotten use to staying up late reading through my infant. I'm trying to get her to the stage where she is full grown. I didn't realize that the editing process was going to take a while until I started. I really wanted to stay up and continue working.
It was so hard to get out of bed this morning. I took my time getting ready and didn't really care if I was late. Going to work was not what I wanted to do. I had already grown accustomed to being home. It was so easy.
Eventually I made it onto the bus. I pulled my pages out and edited all the way to work. Something wasn't right. Steve Harvey wasn't even making me laugh. He usually puts a smile on my face and I always get at least one good laugh before I get off the bus. Neither one happened this morning.
I got my breakfast and made my way upstairs. As soon as I got off the elevator it hit me. I knew what was wrong. My calling was being missed. The few days I had at home were like heaven. No matter what I was doing, I had my pages with me. I was missing the extra time I had with my baby.
Working in a medical library is not what I want to do; it's not what i'm suppose to do. I'm a writer. That should be my career. I've been feeling depressed all day because I can't get my baby off my mind. She needs my tender love and care. This library does not need me and it's not where I need to be.
It would be great if I could quit my job and dedicate all of my time to writing. There is no doubt in my mind that one day I will be able to do what I want and have the career I choose. Until then, the bills have to be paid and I have to do what I have to do. I'm claiming it, it's mine. I just have to be patient.