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Last week, I shared with you what my absolute dream job would be. Since my dream of becoming a musician is unrealistic and unattainable, I thought long and hard about what I would love to be doing for a living, that I could actually do. What would I like to spend my days doing that would make earning a living enjoyable?
Living the Dream
The answer, being a writer. If I could spend my days creating stories, poems and novels that people can connect with, I would be a happy person. I’d be free to always be me and people would chalk up any eccentricities to my being a writer, because writers are, by nature, quirky. Or, at least, that is the general consensus.
I imagine what my life would be like as a writer. My mornings would be spent sending my kids off to school before I grabbed a cup of coffee and then sat down at my desk, surrounded by books, and set to work. Hours would fly by as I wrote or researched or got lost catching up on my social media (because let’s be honest, you can’t ever just sign on for five minutes). Then my kids would come home from school and I’d spend time making them snacks and finding out what they did that day. I’d try to get in a few more hours of writing before it would be time to make dinner.
Some days, when the sun is shining and there is a nice warm breeze, I’d head outside to write while soaking up some sun. I’d be able to chaperone school trips or catch all the recitals (both of my kids play violin) and plays that I currently miss out on due to my demanding work schedule. I’d take walks to clear my head when I have a bout of writer’s block, stopping to smell the roses and take pictures that I always intend to take but never have the chance to right now. I’d finally get to travel to all the places I’ve wanted to see, but never had the time, as I travel to various book stores while doing a tour.
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Sometimes, I even go so far as to imagine myself in a smoking jacket and ascot (weird since I’m a woman) with a tumbler of scotch or brandy in my hand, sitting or standing in front of a fireplace, mulling over a few ideas for my next book. Or perhaps hobnobbing with other writers at various book release parties, discussing the trials and tribulations of life as a writer. I think that perhaps this might be my alter ego and if I can come up with a name for this stuffy, upper crust, male version of myself, then I would have found my pen name.
Maybe the reality of being a writer will be nothing at all like I imagine it, but simply doing something that I enjoy would make it far better than any other career options I currently have available to me. Being able to set my own schedule and create a routine would offer me the flexibility to enjoy life before it passes me by while helping me focus more on my writing.
Right now, it seems that my ideas come to me at the most inopportune times, while in the middle of program testing for our new accounting system or reviewing financial statements and I can’t stop to jot down the notes because, well, that would be frowned upon. By the time I have some “free time” to actually do my writing, I am physically and mentally drained. Even writing this blog takes longer than it used to because in the middle of writing it, I start dozing off. And yet, I haven’t stopped trying, haven’t put down my pen or shut off my computer because writing has become a part of me and without it, I’d be lost.
Writing is like therapy for me. Through all of the stresses of life, whatever crazy roller coaster ride of emotions I am on, I become grounded through my writing. I purge my emotions onto the page, into the characters and the story or poem, giving them a depth that would otherwise be lacking. I know that it will not always feel like a joy, there are times when it can feel like work, but if I could escape to a world of my imagining for hours on end and get paid for it, that would truly be a dream come true.