I wish I could just go home and write. Forget the day job. Forget bills. Forget marriage problems and money problems.
Just immerse myself in my manuscript.
Maybe go to Barnes & Noble and write for awhile, then switch to a picnic table at the park, or even just plant myself on my couch with music playing in the background, a pair of comfy sweats on, with my Diet Pepsi and dark chocolate nearby.
Strange, how when those days actually present themselves, it's very hard to get to that point - to actually sit down and do what you've dreamed of doing. It's more the thought of the dream than the dream itself.
Is that what it will be like when I am finally published? Will reality smack me in the face like a wet fish? (Ewww...)
I've held the dream of being published since I was in the sixth grade. That's a long time. And in that time, I know I've built up certain expectations. I doubt all of those expectations will come true. But still...I'll take the reality right along with the dream. I can do no less.
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