So, there I was, shutting down my business laptop, having successfully finished designing an office newsletter, when I realised that I couldn’t lay my lids to rest and kiss my pillow just yet.
My blog was due and my waking and sleeping hours were fully booked. I felt like my life was pouring out of one jug into the next in a stream of infinite action.
My definition of exhaustion is ‘falling into the rapids between jugs’ and surfacing before the last bubble of air leaves my lungs. Swimming was out of the question and so now the rain clouds blotch the rising sun and I sit down to blog before breakfast.
In my previous space, entitled ‘A giant step’, I referred to my fears as a writer. I am happy to report that a healthy clutch of readers got stoned enough for me to rock.
There’s only one thing more thrilling than living and breathing your story and that’s waking up to find that your bed isn’t empty. In the hidden hours, your readers slipped between the covers and experienced your passion. They didn’t just leave a few bucks on the dresser, they turned over and over and said, “Do it again.”