Other Things.

I wanted to write to you yesterday, but I got far too caught up with all the other stuff. Yes that’s right I said other stuff. ‘Other stuff’ as in those things that I do that do not relate to writing. 

The last three years at uni turned writing into my life. I wrapped myself in words, written by others and written by me. I indulged, I spent whole days reading because the books related to my course. I spent long nights writing frantically because I was excited. Gosh, writing was quite literally my life. You’ve seen that right? You have noticed?

So recently I have been looking back and I realised how dangerous it all was. Dangerous. I clung to my writing when everything around me was falling apart, when I broke down I used it to pull myself back up. So now, when I don’t have courses to write for, when the only deadline I have is myself, I am having to learn to let it go. I cannot be writing all the time, I just can’t. There is too much other stuff going on and without the pressure of deadlines I’m free to do all the little things I wanted to do.

I think in the real world it isn’t healthy to spend all of my time obsessing over the written word. I still do, maybe a little more than most people, but I can do other stuff. How ridiculous is it that I am only just realising that now?

I can do other stuff.

This doesn’t mean that I’m putting a stop to my dreams. I am still working away at that novel. You know ‘the one’. It just means that I am not worrying about spending all of my time on it, when I can’t. When I know I’ll just burn myself out. So I am spreading my time, and if that means posting on here a little less then I guess it’s only polite of me to let you know.

So I am sorry that I am not posting too frequently, but I am baking, and knitting and planning out christmas cards and volunteering at a school and I got this job thing I’m doing. I have spread these things out, and writing fits around them, no worries, easy as that.

Because life can’t always be one big rush to the finish line.