Procrastination has become my drug.
I am almost done with the first draft of Book 2 in the Darkness Calls series. I emphasize the almost part because I am at the point where I know how the book is going to end, what scenes need to be added, the finishing touches, etc. But despite knowing what needs to be done to finish the draft, I have yet to finish it.
Because I procrastinate. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and start heading towards it, but then stuff comes up which sound like perfectly good reasons to delay finishing the draft. Holidays. Errands. Oh, and the job I do to provide me with the paycheck needed to pay back my student loans. By the end of the day when I go to write, I am tired from all the other otherness in my life.
My job has become a large part of it. I substitute teach but have recently taken on tutoring and proctoring the MTEL in addition to substitute teaching. So, yeah, I have been very busy in an effort not to disappoint my inner Suze Orman.
But I have also recently come to the revelation that the job is not my life. The job is not the path, or even the baby steps towards the path, I want to be on in life. I do not want to be a teacher or any type of education-related profession. The job is my current source of a paycheck, but it does not define what I want to do in life.
I am a writer. I find it odd that I need to remind myself of who I am and what I truly want. It is as though I have unintentionally allowed the other stuff I do not like to take over my life to the point where I have to remind myself that I enjoy doing something and force myself to do something that I truly like, such as reading a book or writing. And I think I am not alone in this perplexing situation.
So, yeah, procrastination has become my drug. Yet, I like to think of myself as a recovering addict in that I am rehabilitating myself to the life that I truly want to have and to go for that life. Not the one where I let a job I do not like hijack my life and identity.