What Would You Do?
I’m in a bit of a pickle, People.
It seems that there is not enough of me to go around.
I used to be able to get so much done in a day. Maybe that’s because I had horrible insomnia and I only slept 2 hours a night. I’m glad those days seem to be behind me, but a new issue (I hesitate to call anything a “problem”) has arisen: I’m overwhelmed by my duties.
No one is going to fire me because I am
“ a taker” unemployed retired in the prime of my life.
Why am I retired? Because I can’t handle stress. It makes me more dizzy, panicky, migraine headachy, sick to my stomachy, and generally unable to functiony.
So my solution to not getting bored and dumb in my retirement was to become something new and different.
- I became divorced, which I didn’t plan on, but that worked out okay.
- I became a condo-liver (that sounds really strange, especially coming from a vegan), which I enjoy because my condo is the perfect size and every room has the nice amenity of being finished–unlike where I lived when I was married.
- I became a quilt artist, which is great but I kind of forgot how to do it because I haven’t been doing it (see below).
- I became an author, which is totally awesome and amazingly time-consuming.
- I became a book promoter, which is totally non-awesome and amazingly time-consuming.
- I became a blogger, which is a blast and a half and feels like it has a life of its own, complete with a pistol pointed at my head sometimes.
It’s the blogger/author dichotomy that’s getting my stressometer revved up. You see, I’m trying to promote my memoir, write my new novel, and keep up with my blog.
I can’t do it.
Here’s what I saw when I opened my email a couple of hours ago.
Reading and responding to 84 posts takes me many hours. You know me, People. I leave comments. I rarely leave a “like” and move on. And I comment on your comments, don’t I? All this chatting takes time, especially given my typing disability (I make tyops all the tme–see, I just did it, but didn’t correct it to show you–like a business school drop-out after a wild night of sex, drugs, and rock and roll who has to type–not text–something on a full-sized keyboard while blindfolded).
If I respond to all these blog posts, I have no time to devote to the book I wrote or to the one I’m writing.
If I ignore these blog posts, can I call myself a blogger? Will anyone respond to a blog post I write? In this bloggy world, reciprocity is the name of the game.
In the past I’ve just announced that I’m taking a break from blogging, because I can’t seem to strike a balance between Blogger Lorna and Author Lorna before I turn into Zombie Lorna. Is that my only option?