I swore that when I found a 3-day-a-week nanny job, I would bust my butt writing EVERY SINGLE DAY that I had off.
I had fanciful ideas of waking up the morning after my 72 hour shift (some of those sleeping hours, I should mention) hitting the shower, getting dressed, grabbing the laptop, and typing away until my fingers were cramping and bruised.
Sadly, that’s not been the reality these last few months.
Once upon a time, about a year ago, I was able to punch out the first draft of a feature length script in a week. This is while I was working 50+ hours a week with a 2 hour round-trip commute. I literally had “little to no time” but I knew what story I wanted to tell, I identified so deeply with the characters that the dialogue just spilled out onto the paper, and I felt no pressure to get it done.
Now that I have 4 solid days of the week that could be almost entirely dedicated to writing, I should be producing more.
I have a handful of excuses I’ve bandied out to justify my lack of creativity, some are as follows:
- By the time I get off of work on Monday evening, my brain is so fried and frazzled that it takes several days to recover. Not only is nannying physically exhausting, it’s mentally and emotionally tiresome as well. So many tantrums, so much whining, so many emotions and angry words are hurled at you in that profession. I’m not sure how nannies keep their sanity. Mothers HAVE to love their kids, but us, we’re a rare [read: insane] breed of people that are capable of loving someone else’s spawn, even when they launch insults at us.
- I’m switching my focus between writing and acting and this is prime time when it comes to finding an acting agent for the unrepresented.
- I’m tired. Like, REALLY TIRED.
- No one’s going to read this shit, why am I even writing it??
Some excuses are more justifiable than the others, but HEY, I’m being honest, here.
I need to find a way to work through all of these roadblocks. A smart idea would be to set up a writing schedule with concrete goals and deadlines. Holding myself accountable is the dark-side to that new moon (I tried really hard to make that analogy work, right there. Did it?).
I could try to organize writing groups to motivate me and my writing pals.
Or I could just drive to Santa Monica, saunter into Dunkin’ Doughnuts, get a double chocolate doughnut and a strawberry glazed doughnut, drive back home, sit on the couch, turn on Netflix, watch as many episodes of Parks and Rec as my attention span will allow, cry because that show is done and gone forever, and wallow in self-pity.
I love having options.
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