Many a time, as a self-proclaimed writer, I am most unfortunately plagued with the inability to write. As paradoxical as it appears, this is usually the case and stands to reason behind the ever slow ascent of my current word count (which has in fact not changed since I have previously logged here). The explanation behind this is my lack of available time to squander on what is lamentably still considered as a mere hobby. And impractical, according to the Boyfriend, for the impending zombie invasion-slash-apocalypse. No matter how many times I rectify his false assumption as ‘nonsense’, he persists in clinging to his narrow-minded bilge.
That is unrelated, though. As obstinate as he is, the Boyfriend is not the source of my complaining, which will be rightfully attributed to the monotonous throes of ‘real life’. This brutal reality that I speak of often convinces unsuspecting and naive scholars that it is necessary and pertinent to obtain useless degrees in order to sustain oneself. This process requires great sums of money that the government believes you have hidden away in a shoe box buried in your auntie’s backyard. Unfortunately for me, I have no such auntie. I am grateful, however, for the financial aid I’ve miraculously received in order to finance two years of my useless degree. The rest I shall have to earn, working my current part time job that more than likely won’t grant me employment benefits until I turn in my two weeks’ notice to go off and finish the rest of my worthless degree. And gas. That’s expensive as well, particularly since my current mode of transportation remains to be inefficient with fuel.
The point of the above paragraph is to emphasize how desperate I am for money, and since people with money do not normally hire quiet young ladies to sit and do nothing, I find myself going back and forth to my job. This current occupation of mine often requires the cooking of chicken and the slicing of Cajun roast beef.
Anywho, I’m sure any person of limited sanity would understand the necessity for a stable income. College student, in need of a new vehicle of automation. I currently work in the deli of a massive corporation. My average day consists slicing meat and cheese, cooking various types of chicken, bagging, labeling, preparing food trays. The works. It’s not a bad job, to say the least. As of my third week of starting it, I have not yet experienced a rude customer. (But of course, now that I’ve said something. . .)
All that is to say how, even averaging thirty hours a week for part time, I do not have much time for writing. Before being a deli sales associate, I was working in child care, watching preschoolers up to fifth graders in after school and summer programs. That was a rather enjoyable job, something I found very rewarding. I was quite sad when I had to leave. (I won’t bore you with the details, but changing jobs was better for me economically, financially, even if difficult emotionally).
With working in the after school program, I did manage to find time between classes and work to squeeze in writing. Mostly, I would write while I was at work. Of course, that does sound bad when I put it into writing, to admit that for spare moments of my time I was focused with jotting down a sentence or two instead of keeping a sharp eye on that one boy who always dared jumping off the swings. It wasn’t much writing, but it was something that slowly accumulated over time. Then, summer hit and I had about two hours a day to read or write as I pleased while the kids were at nap. That soon changed when I started working in the deli. It was one thing to scribble down epic adventures while little children snoozed. It’s another thing entirely to do so when you’re constantly on your feet, sporting plastic gloves and a hair net. There is no time for it. And if there is, pulling out a notebook in the middle of the deli would not necessarily make a good impression. So I save it for break or lunch if I am not previously engaged elsewhere.
I’ll be starting a summer class in July (don’t ask me when because the date escapes me). Thus, robbing me of any more spare time that could be spent on writing down my current novel project. It is odd to think that it is during the summer, when students are supposed to be enjoying a break that I have little to no time for writing.
I am persistent. I will keep writing and I will finish. Point in case—it’s taken me forever to finish this just one blog and I’m pretty sure I’ve managed at least five hundred words on the current project in that time. Forever here means the time span of about five days.
Also, since I seem to be making a habit of certain things, have a video starring Jessie Cave and Evanna Lynch in Jessie Cave’s fictional series, Bookworm. The Potterer.