I have been meaning to write more, mostly to have some sort of creative outlet that does not involve code. Don’t get me wrong. I love coding and still have about 20 different side projects and ideas that I want to work on. However, writing code for fun after writing code all day for work has not sounded… well… fun these days.
After writing the manuscript for Sweet Little You, I realized that I like writing. That is weird to say after years of saying that I hate writing. Maybe I was writing the wrong things. (I’m looking at you, technical documentation.)
So, of course, after deciding that I really do enjoy writing, I stopped having the motivation for it. To be honest, between work and parenting, I stopped having the motivation for a lot of “extras”. After work is over and mini-me is in bed, I am just tired.1 So, I have not written in months. I have a giant list of ideas, but no motivation to work through them. The writing bug decided to hibernate. It’s not quite writer’s block because it feels different. I’ve been calling it “motivation block”.
Then, today happened. After a Covid exposure that quarantined us during Christmas and grounded us from seeing family and celebrating. After the quarantine ended and I looked forward to having a completely quiet house in the in-between days when I am off of work, but the kiddo has (pre)school. After really needing that break of a kid- and work-free day, today happened. A positive Covid test result. Positive despite quarantining for 10 days. Positive despite having no symptoms. We are now in isolation for the few remaining days of my work-free holiday.2
I’m not going to lie. That wrecked me.3 And that made me feel guilty because of the implication that I don’t want to spend time with my own child. I love my child. But, every so often, mommy needs a break.
I spent pretty much the entire day going between being perfectly fine and perfectly sad. It made me wonder what my kid was thinking when I looked sad. Today was new territory for us. She didn’t say anything and she is the queen of deflecting. Is she sad too?
So, after we finished playing and watching way too much Paw Patrol and eating dinner and saying night night, I sat down and wrote. I wrote an entire story. I wrote about a girl and about being so sad that you just don’t want to move.
I don’t know if what I wrote will ever see the light of day, but I wrote. I wrote about how I feel and now I feel a whole lot better. That is one strong motivation block cure.
Something something pandemic. Something something collective trauma. Something something it’s been almost 2 years with no end in sight. ↩
Don’t worry. Everyone is fine. Asymptomatic Covid is a best-case scenario right now. ↩
And, for those of you who told me that “this is parenthood”, I have a very specific finger I’d like you to take a look at. Of course you’re right, but that is not a thing to say to someone right in this moment. ↩