My Son Told Me I Need to Get A Job
Why Writing is a Job
I had dinner with my children this past Sunday. They told me I needed to get a “real” job. I need to work somewhere where I am around people. Not just writing all the time.
Uhm. Ya.
I schooled them real fast. Here’s my life.
I get up before the sun most days of the work week. I write in my pajamas with a cup of coffee. Then, around 8:00, when the sun is bright and my neighborhood is free of the black bears that roam, I go for a 2–3 mile walk.
I’m home by 9:00, where I clean up, do a few chores, answer emails, and texts, troll the dating app to see who’s liked me, then — go back to more writing. I write at home or go to a cool coffee shop.
Then lunch. Lunch is the gym some days, or it can be a face-to-face meeting with a potential new client.
Fridays are my free day.
I can do anything on Friday’s.
I’ve driven the hour to the beach, sat in a coffee shop facing the ocean, and then spent a few hours in the sun. I’ve taken hikes through the springs near me. Gotten my nails done. Read by the pool. Mostly, it’s my catch-up, stress-free, let-my-imagination-work day. No clients. No Meetings.
