It's different for everyone, and it really depends on the circumstances. As a teenager, the last five minutes of the last period of the day drags on until it seems eternal. But if you're having a blast with your friends, the hour of your curfew comes way too soon.
When I'm writing and I'm so far in the zone I'm living my heroine's life, it can feel like days have passed in a matter of hours. Or maybe I'm writing an intense stand-off before the protagonist and the antagonist in the book that takes a matter of minutes. I look up, shocked to find it's dark outside. Or more likely in my case, dawn has broken.
Normal, day-to-day living usually doesn't provide that odd feeling of time displacement. Or rather, it didn't used to.
With the pandemic entering it's third year and me having to isolate, the feeling of being temporally off from the rest of the world has intensified. If I think of calling or texting someone, I need to check a clock so I'm not waking them.
Genius Kid says he experiences something similar when he works night shift. He has to stop himself from calling us on his days, or rather nights, off. Though as DH pointed out, if GK calls before four a.m., I'm probably still up.
And I've given up on living everyone else's hours. It's just not working for me.
So I'm waking an hour or two before DH gets off work, and I deal with the administrative tasks of Angry Sheep. We have dinner, watch a little TV before he plays video games to relax while I do some writing sprints with a friend. We watch the first half of Stephen Colbert (if it's a first-run episode), and DH goes to bed. I jump into work--writing, editing, and/or online classes. Sometime, I do all three on a given night. Then I go to bed two-three hours before DH's alarm goes off.
Unless I have a medical appointment. I try to set those as early as I can so I stay awake for it, then go to bed when I get home. Or I sleep a few hours, go to the appointment, and crash on my recliner for the rest of my "night".
Time and our perception of it are such weird things.
That's not including the household chores I'm behind on doing. Like finish lining the kitchen shelves so I can unpack the rest of the kitchen-related boxes.
No wonder this Wednesday feels like a Monday.
I hope everyone is having a great day, and you're getting lots accomplished!
Last night, DH went to bed about halfway through Colbert because he was exhausted from dealing with work and his dad. I'm not trying to be a pisser about my father-in-law. His mental faculties are fading at an alarming rate since November. Sometimes, he thinks he's still in the Victorian where he and my mother-in-law raised their five children. Sometimes, he can't find his bedroom in his teeny-tiny assisted living apartment. He forgets that he just has to press a button to get the nurse to come to his place. Other times, he forgets how to talk, and everything comes out garbled. We're losing the man we knew, and it's a sad feeling.
Between DH going to bed and me trying to sleep, I got a bit of writing done on a wip, wrote the script I need for my Kickstarter video, and wrote a good chunk of the text portions of the Kickstarter page.
It's twelve-thirty p.m., and I'm finally feeling tired. Maybe now, my body will let me sleep.
Where other artists constantly practice their chosen form, writers expect themselves to be perfect on the first try.
Where other artists learn the skills and tricks of their trade, writers refuse to even do a quick google on what point-of-view is.
Where other artists spend months and years learning their chosen form of expression, writers expect instant success.
But the one thing other artists do that writers fail to do time and time again? They believe in themselves.
They enjoy their art for the sake of their art. They don't care what everyone else thinks. They perform or paint or sculpt because they enjoy it. They want to improve. They want to excel out sheer joy.
If you don't enjoy writing, if you're trying to earn someone's approval, or if you think writing a novel will bring you instant fame, then you're writing for all the wrong reasons.
But most of all believe in yourself and write your stories for you.
The class will be held through Zoom on January 13, 2022, at 6:00 PM EST.
The cost is FREE.
However, you will need to preregister with the Findlay-Hancock County Public Library so Ms. Flick, the adult services librarian can send you the link prior to the class. If you are remotely interested, go ahead and register now!
If you have a problem registering, please contact me on my Contact Form.
Hope to see you there!
