For one, The Aligned, the third book in The Hunted series, has been in the editing stage for at least a year now. A new book I started to write in early January has been collecting proverbial dust as it waits for the tip-tap of Microsoft ink to appear on it's neatly typeset pages. Then to top it off, Goodreads has informed me that my previous status of awesomeness for being several books ahead in my reading challenge, has now disclosed that I suck and need to pick up a damn piece of fiction before I ask 'where are the pictures?'.
I mean Jeez, I just can't seem to get a grip on anything.
I find between earning the almighty dollar, sweating it out at the gym, squeezing in family time and hanging out with friends, I barely have a minute left to think. And what do I think about?
Oh my lord, have I been dreaming about peanut butter lately, and should I get started on the need to dive face first into a room full of fresh, buttered bread?
I think what I need is my study/work space back (and some carbs). Organisation was like a perfume that wafted from the smooth pine bench-top and custom built bookshelves, and productivity oozed from every aesthetically placed item and alphabetized file like an aphrodisiac of literary delight.
Now I sit stacked against lumpy cushions on a futon with a TV dinner tray supporting my laptop and a rickety dryer spinning off-center in the background. It's a wonder I haven't written my opus.
So tell me, do you sometimes feel in such disarray that your life comes to a virtual halt? Do you wish you had more time and if you do, fluff around with the potential of it's productivity?
Let me know. I'd like to think I wasn't the only writer caught in a rut of her own making.