Embarrassed

Yesterday was a bad day but it all started on Tuesday night. I have been busting my ass in an effort to complete my packet for my MFA program and it has required that I work long days that keep me away from my wife and child. After work, I went straight to work on homework and plugged away through the night until about 11 o'clock at night - my second 14/15 hour day in a row.

When I got home Tracy and Shea were sound asleep and I didn't have a chance to talk to Tracy or to hold Shea. It made me realize that there is a price to pay for my selfish desire to pursue my writing.

I'm an optimist, I know, it's annoying. I believe that I fill all the roles that I need to and maintain a level of excellence at them all. Husband, check. Father, check. Student, check. Writer, check. Son, brother, friend, employee, check, check, check, check. Well, I'm not sure that is true anymore. There are limits to my endurance. I'm fallible, mortal, and, God knows, flawed.

I've been driving so fast that I haven't stopped to take a breath lately. I realize that I am writing from inside a bubble. Writing comes from life and I feel like I have been rushing through mine, going from one deadline to another without stopping long enough to actually enjoy the process. How can I write when I'm not paying attention? I have been in a head-down-nose-to-the-grindstone mode for so long that I haven't sat next to the river and just enjoyed the sound of water tumbling over rocks. I don't know what time the sun sets right now because I spend all of my time sitting in front of a computer screen.

I have a wife who loves and supports me but what am I doing right now that is supporting her? Am I providing the things she needs in order to be happy? I'm not fulfilling all my roles and the next question I have to ask myself is, am I filling any of them?