I’ve got a problem. The very second after I finish doing something, I lament how tired I am. But after siting around idle for a few minutes, I run off to embark on a new endeavor. And I run fast, too – like there’s fire on my heels.
Why? I’m pretty sure I don’t hate myself.
Do I have a case of ants-in-the-pants? Maybe. But for me, continuing on my life’s journey means getting things done. Likewise, continuing on my author’s journey means the same thing. There is always another story to be told. Another theme to develop. More characters to create.
It’s not surprising then that I just finished another manuscript. I danced joyously for a day. Then I declared I was exhausted. And two days after that, I was back at my computer, typing away on yet another story.
As my husband would say, maybe I am
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