I've been doing a lot of overtime at the library over the past few months due to staff shortages, but it's all finished today. We're staffed up to the max, and I'm back to my normal hours. Not that I mind. It's funny how you start getting sucked into the politics of work when you're there every day. In way I like being in the thick of it, part of a team etc. but on the other hand it can drag you down. I'm quite looking forward to being more peripheral again - letting the grittier stuff fly over my head.
What I'm also looking forward to is..ta-dah...More Writing Time. (I will not think about all the jobs that need doing at home.) What I'm not looking forward to is less money. Yes I know it's vulgar to talk about the M word, but I've never claimed to be classy. Anyway, after selling a couple of short stories recently I'm going to see if I can make some sort of living at it. Not a champagne swigging, designer shoe buying, white-truffle scoffing, chihuahua-in-a-bag holding, mixing with royalty, holidaying in the Maldives type living OBVIOUSLY, but enough to keep us in HobNobs. Worth a try. What's the worst that can happen? Gradual destitution, loss of dignity, depression, aggression, a brush with the law and an ASBO, I suppose. But it won't come to that. Or will it?
I'm making headway with the novel too, thanks to a fab new writing buddy with a whip and a Friday morning deadline, which has spurred me on no end. At this rate it'll be finished in...ooh, ten years give or take.
Don't hold your breath or anything.