Three months of hiatus from writing this blog is a stark reminder that I am, in point of fact, a petty dabbler of a writer.
Not for lack of desire, mind you!
I have just been swimming in stress. Eating it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner of late. I won't get into specifics but we moved recently and it has done the opposite of alleviate our finances. We are stretched thin, like butter scraped over too much bread. I honestly don't know how much longer we can hold on like this. I am running out of things to do.
However, I do not wish all of this to be some dreary live journal pity party. I simply want all of you to know that I am a father and a husband before I am an author. When push comes to shove, my family gets first dibs on both my time and my energy. Believe me when I say that both have been required of me lately.
"But Justin, you're writing now!" And my friends that is a most astute observation! I am indeed writing again. What I am not going to do, however, is call myself a writer as I have been. I've never had such an egregious lapse in my writing before. Nothing is truly resolved yet, so I do not know if this is a temporary calm before the storm resumes.
All I do know is that I miss getting to organize my thoughts and my imagination one sentence at a time and that my life is poorer for the lack.
Writerfully,
The Unsheathed Quill