It's grey and cold here today. The sun has decided to go back into hiding. Many people hate this weather but I don't mind it at all. For me it is great reading and writing weather. On a clear, sunny day there is a level of guilt associated with spending time hidden away in my bedroom writing when I should be out enjoying the day. Days like today, no-one would question my choice of activity. I do compromise as much as I can and take my book outside however, I am not one of those people who can write outside. I can write in my journal but I can not do any form of serious writing. Maybe this is just because it's what I tell myself but regardless of the reason ...
it is what it is.
Also, should I be writing when I am out and about or is it more beneficial for me to be observing my surroundings. I spend a lot of time locked away on my own and whilst, (yes whilst) I enjoy that, I am aware that I need to find some balance. Last night, I asked my husband if he minds coming home to find me in the bedroom, not waiting anxiously for his arrival in my sexiest lingerie, but writing away, our bed hidden under books and paper, his bedside table littered with coffee cups. He is a smart boy; he answered no. Next I asked if he minded that every evening, having dealt with dinner, I vanish again into the bedroom leaving him to his own devices until bedtime. Again he answered no. That's a relief.
I have what could be easily described as an addictive personality. It could also be described as a selfish personality. I have suppressed my urge to write a book for more years than I care to admit to and now that I have begun in earnest I really don't want anything to stand in my way. To me, this feels unfair to my family, since I have always put them first and I wanted to ensure that there was no resentment building up just below the surface of my domestic bliss. At this stage it is no.
This entire conversation with my husband was had at 11pm while we were lying in bed which was probably a tad unfair. His alarm goes off at 4.45am and he probably just wanted to go to sleep. It's true, maybe other things crossed his mind, but I doubt any of those things were - I hope we get to lie here and just talk all night.
Anyhow, this is where the whole balance thing comes up again. I am still trying to find a happy balance between all the things I love, but I feel I am getting there slowly, if for no other reason than I am aware of the need to do so. To combat my me time I am going to make a concerted effort to spend time with my hubby and to ensure that when I do, my focus is not back in the bedroom. Actually, I am sure he wouldn't mind if that is where my focus drifted as long as my thoughts had nothing to do with my book. He would probably put up with that though. We have had 25 years to get used to each others foibles. If I changed too much now he might start to worry.
I know I will start to worry if I keep writing here and not in the bedroom though so that is it for today. Balance, balance, balance! That is my new mantra.