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Upon retirement, my bucket list consisted of nothing more than the first drafts of two novels I wanted to finish. Last month, I exceeded that goal by publishing a third book. I had a lot of fun writing it, just as I enjoyed writing the first two. And once all the dreadful editing was done, getting those books released into the world was just as fulfilling as I’d hoped. 

But now I’m feeling sort of…oh, I don’t know…blah, I guess. It’s not that I don’t want to write. I do. I love writing. When I’m in the throes of it, I get swept away, and it’s like my ADHD goes out the window. Even time ceases to exist. Writing is a wonderful escape, but it’s not something I can do simply by snapping my fingers. The muse shows up at her pleasure…not mine. Currently, she’s nowhere to be found, and the idea of trying to crank out anything creative makes my brain hurt. I do have some thoughts about my next project — and there’s no rush since I make my own schedule — so I don’t know why the fact that I’m not yet banging away at it bothers me so. 

It may have something to do with the fact that I have an abundance of unfettered time to do as I please, and it bugs me when I can’t get myself to put it to good use. And by good use, I don’t mean the laundry list of To-Do’s around the house and property. I mean writing…or more precisely…writing something worth reading. 

Last year, I blogged about the fact that I felt I wasn’t doing as much as I “should” with my free time. In that post, I mentioned a Come-to-Jesus talk that helped me decide to stop worrying about meeting some arbitrary standard. It would seem, though, that I’m having trouble following through. What looked good on paper, and even felt right at the time, is a lot tougher to put into practice than I expected.

I’ve been at this retirement gig for four years, and you’d think I’d have it mastered by now. At what point do I stop feeling guilty for not being busy 24/7? I have no doubt I’ll get going on the aforementioned project at some point, and intellectually, I know it’s okay to take a creativity break. A long one, even. I’ve just got to get over this idea that I’m wasting precious time by doing the mundane things that bring me joy…like reading, playing word games, lazing on the porch swing, and taking the occasional day trip. Truth be told, those sorts of relaxing activities are some of the main attractions of retirement. At least they are for me.

As I write this, I can’t believe I’m literally complaining about the luxury of having free time. I mean…how messed up is that? I’m usually such an optimist, but on occasion, that stupid negativity just grabs hold and refuses to let go. 

I have a feeling it may be time for another Come-to-Jesus talk.

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I’m pleased to share that my first three novels are available on Amazon.

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