Writing took a back seat to crippling need for a job. I have been all over the place scrambling to get something that pays enough to keep the lights and heat on while I try to make it. The problem with not figuring out what or who you want to be when you’re older is that you come pre-loaded with bills. Bills upon bills.

I would really like to hop a plane to San Diego, book a hotel for a week and just write my face off. Then get some tropical drinks and a tan while counting my imaginary book deal offers. But while trying to get my art career going, I burned through my savings and am now just drowning in stress. My eye is getting that weird twitch. My head is hurting and my stomach is soooo full of acid that eating is super fun. And I am getting laid off on Sunday from my tiny money Christmas time gig. 

But you know what calms me down? Writing.

Got a bad mood? Write about it. Good mood? Write about it. Instantaneously feel accomplished. I even have a fiverr gig for writing to do. I have a story out there trying to get me published and a plan to write for my favorite show. Now with my Christmas gig over, I can try to relax, regroup, vacuum the damned house and write some more. Because my head is just bursting with ideas.

And soon, very soon, I will be selling those ideas to someone.