For about the last four months, my team at work has been down a person. About two or three weeks ago, I ran out of other people in the company I could give tasks to. This means that there’s stuff going unassigned, there’s stuff not getting done, and I’m doing a lot of things I should be delegating, since there’s nobody to whom I can delegate. Massive uncoolness all around.
I am very hopeful that this will end soon-ish. I still have one project that needs to be passed off, but that I don’t have anybody to whom I want to do the passing, and the replacement is unlikely to start soon enough to take it. Lots of stress all around, still.
All this means that most of my energy and focus has been going to work, not to writing. It’s gotten me thinking about the fact that so few people make careers as writers, and I wonder how much of that is because, for whatever reason, they cannot sit down and devote the time and energy to writing. Not won’t, but can’t, because of commitments like needing food and housing for themselves and possibly a family.
Yet there are people who still manage to make it work. In many ways, for me, this is actually discouraging, rather than encouraging. I haven’t been able to make it work, and at times like this, it seems unlikely that I ever shall. Do I just lack drive and vision? Is it really not my true calling? Or have I just worn myself out so badly at work these last few months that I can’t even psych myself out of a blue funk?