I'm Always Running a Race

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I have to ask myself “why is that?” I guess part of it is getting involved in too many projects at one time. I’m forever doing this even though I know better. I can be like a bee hopping from one flower to the next.


There are always things I have to do on a daily basis, such as cooking and cleaning, but then there are things I really want to do, which usually consist of some creative endeavor, usually writing, but not always. After all life is more than cleaning, cooking, and homey chores isn’t it. At least I don’t feel fulfilled unless I have some creativity in there somewhere.

I can be working on several writing projects at one time and then all of a sudden see something that sparks a new interest – a new writing contest, or something of that nature usually. Sometimes I’m googling around to find out how to do something, only to find something else I want to try in the process. This happens all the time and then of course there is never enough time for all this stuff.

I am the worst offender about emailing myself links to explore further when I get the time at some future date – whenever that is. Invariably life always gets in the way of all these artistic things. I know the rest of you will find this pretty silly, but not only can I email myself two dozen times a day, but also can stay up to the wee hours looking into something I want to know more about that I found earlier in the day. This of course leads to sleep deprivation, which is so normal in my life now that it is odd to sleep more than about four or five hours a night.

The problem is, if something is really on my mind I’ll lay wake thinking about it anyway, so may as well be up looking into it, or writing on my latest “masterpiece.” I’ve stayed up three full days with no sleep at all, but that is about my limit. Of course, I can’t do that if the husband is home. That only causes problems for my peace-loving nature.

The creative spirit is a curse at times. I’ll be the first to admit that. I get involved in many creative things, not just writing. My friends think I can make about anything and are always telling me “you should make those and sell them.” “Yeah, right,” I say. They have no idea how much time all this takes and the fact is you can never make enough money to make it a worthwhile endeavor.

I’ve been this way all of my life and don’t see that ever changing. I’m sure my husband cringes every time he thinks about how to get rid of all my “junk,” if I should meet my demise before him. He struggles enough with his dad’s garage full of “trinkets.”

Someday I’ll have to write about all the stuff I’ve been into in my life. It astounds even me when I think about everything on that list.