Last month, I decamped from facebook. Put my account into remission. Deactivated my pal feed. It had to do with wanting more psychic breathing room. With living my life without all the thoughts and eyes of everyone I ever grew up or went to school with. With giving myself one less distraction from writing. So far, it’s been really nice. The biggest difference is how much more I’m reading. Like, actual books. You know, instead of those million articles I used to click on every day. And I like that. This is not to say that I haven’t replaced my addiction with other internet timesuckers (instagram, goodreads, etc. (add me! I’m under lacymaybe!)), but it’s been a small step toward the life I envision myself living.
In other stepping-forward news, my oldest daughter started kindergarten last week. And my youngest will start preschool tomorrow, giving me four hours a day to write. Every. Day. Of. The. Week. Be happy for me! Or, if you can’t muster that, just be jealous. I’m almost jealous of myself—it seems so surreal. Tomorrow marks the beginning of the end of my when-I-can-spare-a-minute/mostly-Saturday writing schedule. Opportunity has opened wide—wide enough to drive a career through. And that’s just what I intend to do.
Combine this happy situation with my facebook shunning and I just might finish a manuscript sometime before the next decade.