Deadlines and the Neglected Family (Finally)
The burning question: Did Lisa meet her deadline? The answer is, yes, indeed; but not without sacrifice.
Oh, not my sacrifice. Yes, I’m guilty of spending up to 12 mind-numbing hours a day sitting at my laptop, but that hardly qualifies as a sacrifice, buttercup. It’s work, to be sure, accompanied by the sore back, aching shoulders, anesthetized butt and brain haze that is to be expected from prolonged tap-tap-tapping at the keyboard. But writing is my delight, so I accept the physical battering and try to remember to eat, stretch and pee at regular intervals.
Sadly, it is my family that takes the real hit when deadlines loom:
Daughter: “Hey, Mama? Have you seen my favorite jeans?”Me: “Probably still in the washer. Hope you can get the moldy smell out. Sorry, kid. I’m on a deadline.”Husband: “Sweetheart? You said you were grilling chicken for dinner. It’s almost 9 p.m.”Me: “Smoothies are healthy. You know how to work the blender. Sorry. I’m on a deadline.”Daughter/Husband: “Are you ever coming out of your office?”Me: “Unless you smell my rotting corpse, stop bothering me. I’m on a deadline.”
On the day of the latest deadline, fifteen minutes before the 5:00 p.m. cutoff, my hubby poked his head in my office to see how I was doing. I hereby publicly apologize for turning in my chair, pointing at him, and growling like a demon from the bowels of Hell: “GET OUT! I am on a deadline!” Sorry, honey.
You sense the trend. And I feel bad because under normal conditions I take wonderful care of my beloveds. But really, what could I do? I was, you know, on a deadline.
Deadlines loom over me like a mushroom cloud until the moment of their passing. I’m lucky that my family understands my obsessive approach and cares enough about my passion to both fend for themselves during my times of inaccessibility and to worry about me when I’m too involved to worry about myself. I hope every writer out there has that kind of support. I don’t take it for granted. Ever.
So what do I do when the deadline has been met? Wine and chocolate, buttercup. Wine and chocolate . . . and family time. Because no matter how important the deadline or how crazy it makes me, none of it would matter if my family wasn’t waiting at the other end with amused smiles and an arsenal of teasing observations regarding my psychological (in)stability.
So to my beloveds, thanks y’all. You rock. 🙂
See you next week for the naked truth about . . .
Have a great week –