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.