Frenetic

That's how I feel most days.  Rushing here and there.  Working at the day job.  Working at the house.  Making sure my kids have what they need.  Having a relationship going on four years.
I'm...busy.
But isn't everyone anymore?
Seems like.

The only time I truly think about my writing and stories and ideas and whatnot is right before I go to sleep.
Not exactly a lullaby, you know?
But I guess it's not only then.  Anytime I'm not occupied with life in general and can take a minute to let my mind wander...it does.
Back to the writing.  To the stories.  To the voices in my head.

But you know what really sucks?
I only let them put a foot in the door.  There is only one time in my life I've let them bust the door wide open and accepted all of it on a day-to-day basis.  And I wasn't working 40 hours a week then.  I'd write 4000 words easily per day up to 7000 on my most prolific.
I immersed myself in them.  And it was glorious.

Balance is not easy.  And I'm not much of a balanced individual.  (Hush, people)
I run till I fall.  Balls to the wall.  Throwing myself into whatever it is that I'm in.

I HAVE to make room for the stories.  Because right now I feel lopsided and out-of-sorts.
Nothing more satisfactory to me than writing.  Nothing feeds my soul like the words.
I need to get past the feeling that I'm being selfish with my time.  How does one do that?
Definitively, one would guess.

And what do I want to work on?
Well, then.
First book in a five book series.  And a few others in the series.
Erotic Paranormal.
Short romance.

Wish me luck.