So, I’m not really great with change. That isn’t to say that I don’t understand it or respect the fact that it has to happen in life.
I just don’t like when it does.
There were times that changed rocked my world in an amazing way. Like, when I met my husband or when I had my daughter, but that isn’t change so much as it is growth. Those are things that happen, at some point in time, to most people–so I feel like we’re hard wired to accept that sort of thing.
It’s the little changes that get me all worked up.
Like when someone’s at my table in the coffee shop or if they stop making my favorite jeans. I think it’s because I’ve just come to expect that those things will work out the way I need them to, and when they don’t– then I go all crazy town.
When we bought our new house and moved to Denton, I enrolled my daughter in a three day a week preschool. I decided to treat that time like I had a real job, and so I got up every day, went to the coffee shop and wrote. I had an actual schedule to keep, and I stuck to it. It’s been great for me, and for my writing. I actually get out of my pajamas, (if you’re a stay at home mom to little ones, you know what a feat this is) I write regularly, not only in my manuscript but on my blog, too, and I felt like a real worker-type.
That all changes Friday.
That’s the last day of school, and I’m back to writing late nights and weekends whenever I can spare a free minute. I’m super excited about getting to spend the summer with my daughter, but I’m worried how I will do it all. I feel like I CAN do it, I am just scared I WON’T.