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Writing Sample from theProse

  Writing Sample from the Prose The following was written for a writing challenge on theprose.com. The prompt was as follows: Grey Wall  Check out the original over at  Grey Wall . Grey Wall Towering over everything was the Grey Wall. For a thousand generations the Grey Wall had separated the worlds, looming above each in silent threat of what lay on the other side. Looming in the heart of the unchosen. No being had every crossed the Wall. No human would try for the abject terror it brought the imagination. Even the birds, circling and wheeling about the azure sky would not cross the line of demarcation. The Wall meant safety and the Wall meant death. Zenyassa did not care for safety and she did not fear death. She was Unchosen. What did it matter? What was life without the risk of losing it? She could not feel alive sitting before a thatch hut milling grain while the men of her village hunted wild yissana beasts. Their hunt brought them adventures and risk for the great ...
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How my Unfulfilling Job Interferes With Writing

desk job
She feels the same way...

My Unfulfilling Job Interferes With My Writing

I am stuck in a rut like a wagon on the Oregon Trail. 

Oh no! Grandma got stung by a wasp.

She died.

Uncle Timmy got mauled by a bear and ran over by the wagon. 

He makes it to Oregon.

I am about to get stung by the wasp.

For most of us, work sucks or is barely tolerable. I am 100 percent grateful to have a job in these trying times, especially one with healthcare and good benefits. Recently, however, it has been extremely stressful. Not for the amount of work I have to do, but for all the bullshit I have to go through to actually do my work. Not to mention COVID restrictions, being on a ship for over two months with little to no communication and having the dates of travel change constantly so I cannot plan anything or live my life.

Holy crap on a cookie. 

I am frustrated. My job is not fulfilling right now and that feeling is sapping my energy and enthusiasm. Worrying about it is causing me all kinds of stress and is tweaking the holy hell out of my anxiety. I am happy that my depression is being kept at bay for the moment. I could not handle all three at one right now.

That translates directly into my ability to write. I either do not write at all, or if I do it is darker than normal. 

Things get serious. All of a sudden, a happy and light character is having deep philosophical thoughts that have nothing to do with his or her character arc or the story at large.

Backspace. Backspace. Beer. Backspace. 

Somedays when the work time blues hit me, I am able to ignore them. I know there is life outside the depressing, windowless, cubicle hell of my office. Other days, especially after several weeks of poor sleep, I cannot let go of the depressing feeling that an unfulfilling job brings. I just want to quit and pursue my dreams of being a real writer...or a safari guide. 

Yeah, that would be cool.

I always feel that if I had more time to dedicate directly to research, writing, then editing I would actually get somewhere. By that I mean during the hours I would be at my boring day job...where I am writing this post...

Otherwise, I am at work for 8.5 hours, my commute is 25 mins one way (there goes another hour). I spend 1 to 1.5 hours in the gym, then I have to home and do all that domestic stuff. Laundry, cooking, cleaning. Oh, I sleep too. That is 6 to 8 hours.  In essence I, most people, only have 3 to 4 hours of actual time to do anything. WTF. We are not here on this Earth all that long. We need a shorter work week.

I am just ranting now.

I honestly hope that a fellow writer reads this and comments with some constructive help. Or at least to let me know their experience with work/life interactions. 

Ultimately it is up to me to overcome the obstacles in my way. I cannot wait for a muse or some perfect time to write. I just have to write because there is no perfect time.

End of Bitch Session. Toughen the hell up.
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