s mentioned elsewhere on this blog, I’ve retired (or “ReTyred“, shameless plug). And as others have warned me, I am now busier than I’ve ever been.
I’ve got a garage to clean, a storage room to sort and shut down. I’ve got a newsletter to edit (more on that in a later blog). Three times a week bike rides. Meeting with the accountant. Gardening. Astronomy. Model railroading. And, of course, writing.
But here’s the rub. Back when I was a workaday-Joe, I had a good couple of hours a week to write – this was called “lunchtime”. I’d just find a quiet corporate corner, lug out my tinytop and start writing. I’d actually trained my brain to “spin up” while ordering in the Natures Table line, just so I’d be ready to hit the keyboard as soon as that tuna sandwich was unwrapped. In fact, it was often hard to “spool down” after a solid hour of writing.
But now? Too many disruptions, too many kittens, too many wife questions. And lunch might be here, or out at the diner, or with friends, or even on the bike trail.
When am I supposed to write something… well, like this?
One of my other “new jobs” is the 6am Feeding of the Beasts, dealing with the ravenous bouncy furballs who demand their due (and bowls) at the crack of dawn. Well, I’m an old hand at getting up that early and as mentioned before, as soon as I’m up, I’m up. Well, it’s at least three hours until the next activity (generally cycling) and I’ve time to kill. So I’m finding out that filling the early morning slot seems to be working. This week I got some needed online content finished (which the commissioner didn’t like at all, the twit). And I can see this working out once things settle and I can focus on organizing my life further. But for now, at least I’ve found time I can use.
Up next. Cleaning the fugging garage!