When I was younger, whenever someone asked me how I was, I often would reply “tired.”  My response has changed since then, but the feeling stays the same.  I am almost perpetually tired, and that makes writing all the more difficult.

This is one of the reasons finding time to write is problematic.  I am just too tired on weekdays to have my brain start that imagination engine.  That thing runs on energy, and it’s something I don’t have 12 hours after waking up and subsequently working.

I used to be able to do a lot more on a lot less sleep.  I could survive an entire school day and not feel my eyes get heavy during class.  I was tired, but it was a lot more manageable. Now?  Not so much.  I can will myself to stay awake, mostly by consuming copious amount of chocolate and other sweets, but as soon as I don’t have to be, I’m out.  And I suppose it’s better to stay awake at work and fall asleep when you were planning on doing your hobby.

On weekends, I usually get ten or so hours of sleep.  I’m one of those people that needs that much sleep.  True, I haven’t used one of those sleep apps yet to check it out even a little, but I’ve lived with myself long enough to know.  Without that sleep on weekends, I am a zombie.

In 2012, when I was working on a Congressional campaign, I had to set my alarm seven days a week. There were no weekends, and thus no chance for that obscenely high amount of sleep hours I require.  By the end of that run, I was a half-grumpy, half-loony field manager who couldn’t keep the days straight.  It’s one of the reasons I retired from politics, but I’ll get to that.

So I need my sleep.  I get it on weekends and days off, and that’s when I write.  There was a time I tried writing during the week, but I would barely get a full paragraph done.  It just wasn’t worth it.  Now, I’ll only attempt it if I’m somehow wide awake or the inspiration hits at a particular moment.  But that’s a rarity.