It’s done. The big project that I was working on is done. The project that kept me from watching any hulu, skip my lunch to work on it, and stay up late finishing it. Yup it’s finally done.
And what is this project?
I wrote a novel (insert monkey hiding eyes emoji here). I learned about a writing competition a month before it was due and hauled ass to get one submitted in time.
And now the rest is up to fate.
Unfortunately I can’t share the story until they announce the winner. Unless I want to forfeit my chance of winning, which…no chance. But I’m dying to get some feedback. ANY feedback. I’ve never written a full novel before. Writing on a blog or writing a poem or writing anything else is totally different than writing a novel. It’s not even the coming up with the plot line that’s hard. It’s connecting all the little pieces of the plot line together and writing to elicit emotions from the readers so that they connect with your protagonist. I tried to do that, I hope I did that, I hope that at the very least I can share this story and it resonates with someone. ANYONE. Of course it would be AMAZING to be published, but I know that in my heart all I want to do is write and to talk about experiences and emotions and events that I couldn’t find in my books or in TV or anywhere in the public eye but only knew about through personal experience. And when you feel like you’re the only one experiencing something, it can feel very lonely. So I hope my novel does that, it puts a voice and a light about an experience many have to stay in the shadows about.
And now that it’s done, I have time to do …dom. dom. dom….
My ever growing to do list. Seriously? Yes. Nothing explains better how I feel about this to do list than if you take a peek inside my bag. Well all the bags. I have 4 purses/bags.
Bag #1- For work
Bag #2- For Baby/ Me
Bag #3- When I go out *gasp* alone and need just my wallet, phone, and keys
Bag #4- Gym bag
I feel like my purses are a reflection of my life right now. All 4 bags are a chaos. My work bag has paperwork that I need to turn in for a doctors appt, receipts I need to submit for reimbursement, hw my therapist gave me, a magazine for reading during my break, my personal and work phone, lotion, hand sanitizer, a pen and all the typical bag essentials like sunglasses, reading glasses, wallet and keys.
The babies bag isn’t much better. A mini first aid kit because my son inherited my clumsiness (you’re welcome), diapers, wipes, a change of clothes, bubbles for boredom, snacks for quiet time, keys, wallet and phone when needed.
The other two bags are pretty basic in what I carry but they have their own distinct use. The point is I’m always juggling between these 4 bags. Freaking out because I can’t find my headphones between the 4 bags, or having an anxiety attack because I realize holy crap I still have this in my bag and haven’t gotten to it.
That’s how I feel at home. Like I’m juggling my responsibilities between the many roles and hats I have to be and wear. I want to have a good night’s sleep but my son is still co-sleeping and I probably won’t start to teach him to sleep alone until he’s started to get some adjustment at his new daycare (because I had to yet again, find a new place). I want to go to the gym more, but sometimes there are things that are more important that need to be done (like my to do list). I want to be a better friend but sometimes my attention is diverted in a million directions and I can’t just sit down and listen. At a moment where things should start to feel normal I feel like I have less and less control over anything. Most of the time I’m just trying to find my headphones, or find my pen, or figure out what I’m doing with my life and hope the answer is at the bottom of one of the many bags.