FINANCIAL RESOURCES $$$$
If
you’re tallying up authors who have day jobs, count me among those who can't survive on book earnings. I do the M-F 8-5
office thing. Log those paychecks in the credit column. In the debit column are: a couple
of young teen boys, a dog, a house, and an aging mother…then add all the little
things that a household needs to function (yanno, bills).
Assign a value to the things like helping with homework, time spent grocery
shopping and other fetching of things,
time spent shuttling boys to events with their girl friends—whom they insist
they are only friends, and assign a value to the time spent weighing whether or
not to believe that line of bullshit bologna. **NOTE: Sometimes, being the only working adult in the house, running
away with new business cards dubbing me the Shoveler of Circus Elephant Poo looks appealing.
How do I do it?
Magic!
I have a power stone that turns lead graphite into gold. Bring me ALL the pencils!
I wish! In reality, knowing the budget
and (albeit begrudgingly) living within it is rife with that
obligation known as Grown-up Requisites & Responsibilities. Also known as
GRR. **NOTE: If you hear me grr-ing, I am
most surely reminding myself of my Grown-up Requisites & Responsibilities.
PHYSICAL RESOURCES
Remember
those boys I mentioned? One word: MINIONS. Here’s where they start paying me
back for 3 a.m. feedings, fetid diapers, spit up/vomit, and bribing Santa to
bring them all those cool toys. **NOTE:
Blackmailing the fat-man is a no-go because you have to gain evidence of his wrongdoing and he abstains from any such activity. Bribing him works best. A whole tray full of cookies and a big cup of milk with the Nesquik nearby (so he can make his chocolate milk as stout as he likes) has worked nicely in the past. One year they were so bad I set out a whole cheesecake, boxed for return to the North Pole for he and Ms. Claus to enjoy later together.
Routine, Part A.
Now
that fall is closing in, I’m up before the sun (dammit) and I make breakfast—yes, actual cooking is involved; only
occasionally will they be happy with a bowl and a cereal box. Feeding them is
what a mom does means they have energy and they stay healthy enough to do their
chores. Give and take. Of course, they are sent off to school every day with a hug and the phrase, “Have
a good day, do your best, smile, and write neatly,” because that is what a mom does. Their
eye-rolling does not dissuade me.
Knowing
what to expect is part and parcel of being able to perform the necessary
functions confidently. The repetition of them not getting out of it no matter what means
they eventually complain less become more efficient at it.
Routine, Part B.
Designated chores = sanity.
I want to have the kids do everything. But that's unrealistic. Aside from having to lead by example and show them how things need to be done, I need to monitor that it is being done and done well. So we split it up. For example: I
feed the dog breakfast; the Arteest feeds her dinner. The
Arteest takes out the trash; I put a new bag in the can. I
rinse out the pop and food cans; the future stunt man/movie director crushes them and
separates them into their bins. Yard work is typically a group effort.
Everyone
knows what their function is, and everyone knows if they shirk their duty I’m
the one who’s going to royally chew their ass out remind them. My mantra, “Do the have-to’s first, then
all the time that is left is open for want-to’s.” **NOTE: I’m not above pointing out to my children that plenty of mammals
eat their young if they sense something is wrong with it….
MENTAL RESOURCES
I've got to have my head in the story to write it. Through
the week, taking the time to rock out during my 6-minute
commute home is just enough to be obnoxiously loud and not linger ad
nauseam. (Not that 80’s Hair Metal ever blathers on ad nauseam IMHO, but I
acknowledge it’s not the musical de-stresser for everyone.) More seriously, though, that rock out is like slipping through the wardrobe into Narnia for me. I leave work at work and scurry through the gateway into my world. Weekends, however, usually see the most active writing. That is when my time is all mine, and I am happiest.
Below are a few of my favorite ways to tend my mental resources to ensure that the words get to the page.
Mental Resource
Restorative #1
Take a little time for yourself. Maybe you indulge in ice cream. Maybe you watch three episodes of Dr. Who. Maybe you watch Dr. Who and eat ice cream at the same time. Acknowledge your need for "me" time. I have found that a
long soak in a hot bubbly tub is fabulously healing for any lapse of sanity due
to a minion's incompletion of chores. **NOTE: if the minions are pounding at the door because they need to pee, all the relaxing may unravel. Be sure to announce your long-timed intention and give them the option to use the facilities prior.
Mental Resource
Restorative #2
Responsibly giving in to a vice. Responsibly. I'll say that again: Responsibly.
For me, a
tasty adult beverage is a nice way to remove tension from shoulders due to the
stresses of life in general and prime the gears of the mental vehicle that transports me from real world into book
world. **NOTE: One is nice. Two, if something
has been extra stressful. Beyond that there won’t beany writing getting done this evening—or early tomorrow for that matter. I, personally, have way to much shit to do to waste time being hungover, so I know my limit and stick to it.
Sounds like you have some awesome resources... err, minions... err, kids. LOL OMG, that bathroom looks awesome.
ReplyDeleteI need to figure out the spell for turning graphite into gold. Soon, I hope. I think I've almost got it.
And I haven't forgotten that I said I would read for you, but the world got away from me. I'd still love to do it, but I think I lost my window of opportunity - especially if I want the aforementioned 'Soon' to be actually soon.