decompression, it's more important than you think

This weekend I finally got to be by myself. I love my friends and family, and I adore the time I spend with them. But it generally keeps me very occupied, and my mind on non-writing things, and there's this certain miasma (I suppose that's as good a word for it as any) of attention that I must exude. I don't really relax for a day or two after I get back on my own again. Even though it would be free time, it is time I spend waiting to be rested. Then, I feel like a writer again, and those little coals of writing desire flame up, burn bright. I spent all of today and last evening just decompressing from four straight weeks of a flurry of activity (generally fun stuff! but still, my energy was spend on different attentions), and finally tonight I am mellowed out, calm, and content with sitting still. Things are quiet (it is quite late now). Some writers can grab time in-between so many other things -- an hour or a half hour snatched from the jaws of scheduling. Sometimes I can do it, but usually not. I've already had some great successes -- the free 1k read has been submitted (yep, the story where I was trying to be funny!) and I finished crafting a guest post that is due for August (a little ahead of the curve there), and now I'm going to focus on actual, real writing. Whew!