As I type this, I am up early, as usual. It’s still dark outside but warm here in the jungle. I can hear the rain cascading in sheets through the open window. After weeks of sweltering in heat and humidity, a storm has swept a “cold front” over the islands. But hailing originally from Alaska, I can hardly label temperatures in the mid-70s, even with rain, as “cold.” It does affect my ability to run regularly though, which can leave me feeling quite restless.
Sometimes life is as crazy as the weather and that’s how it’s been for me lately. There is always a flurry of activity near the end of school and my husband’s job has been very busy. What suffers is my writing. Not the quality, not my creativity, not my focus nor my desire to write. Those things strain for an outlet when constrained, always pushing to be unleashed. But when time grows short, it is my work, unfortunately, which must be scaled back.
So I try to wait patiently for an opportunity to finish my latest novel which is so unbearably close to completion, my brain aches to finish it. And I already have my next book in mind which my fingers long to begin.
Ah well, the time will come.