The Day Job has been kicking my ass these last few weeks. The fallout from a new system roll-out that suffered a few growing pains, a ridiculously large workload, and everything in between. On the one hand, it all makes the day go by ridiculously quickly, but on the other hand, it leaves me hardly any breathing room. Last week’s vacation was a short respite from that, but alas, I’m still getting my butt handed to me at the end of the day.
Over the last few days I’ve been tempted to lighten the load: stop drawing my Inktober entries, take a hiatus from the blogs and the daily 750 Words, and focus only on finishing Meet the Lidwells. Or maybe even take a break from that as well.
And then it occurred to me: That’s how they win.
The last thing I ever want to do is give up my creativity for frustrating reasons. Yes, I know, this is my Day Job, the one that brings in the money. But really — do I want to put my lifelong career goals aside because of it? Hell to the fucking NO. It aggravates the hell out of me when that happens.
Even if it’s something insignificant like the blogs or the daily words or the Inktober drawings? Yes, even those. It’s part of who I am and what I want to do with my life. They’re the practice that makes me better at what I do, and I can’t give that up. I won’t give that up.
I was greatly tempted to put up a ‘fly-by’ post a few times over the last few days and say ‘I’ll be back when things quiet down’, but the more I thought about it, the more it made me angry. I did not want to do that. It felt like I’d be slacking off, or worse, not taking my writing career seriously.
Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes it’s hard as hell to balance my Day Job life with my writing life. I get that. A hell of a lot of creative people have to contend with that. We all take time off to recharge, or to regain sanity, or finish a Day Job project, or whatever. I’ve done it myself plenty of times. [Hell, I did nothing during my vacation last week except take pictures and do the Inktober entries.] But I don’t really think I’ve hit that point just yet.
I don’t want to call it. Not just yet.