Impatient

I’m at home waiting in for a delivery of fencing timber for my new house. I move in on Thursday and need the fence replaced this weekend. I’ve got to the point where I just want to get moved.

I still have packing to do, but I’ve run out of space and boxes. I’m getting impatient to move in though; I want it all done and out of the way. It’ll be four weeks from viewing to getting the keys, exactly four weeks.

Waiting around for this timber to be delivered (we weren’t given a delivery time) has concentrated my impatience. I want to take the dogs out for their walk but I don’t want to miss the delivery. I’m so distracted by it that I can’t concentrate on writing. Sitting around, bored, is making me want to take a nap. If I nap I won’t sleep later; I’m having enough problems sleeping at the minute as it is. I haven’t slept properly since Saturday night.

I think it’s making me anxious; being impatient and anxious about the timber is just a focus for my anxiety about the whole move.

…Writing interrupted by arrival of timber…

I’m back…

I have my fencing materials. One step closer. I should get my shoes on and move the timbers through the gate; I don’t want anything pinching while I’m out walking the dogs. I’m a bit more awake now; I might read one of my net galley downloads for reviewing.

I got distracted by the arrival of fencing.

As I was saying, I’m anxious and impatient to move. I recognise the symptoms from other major life upheavals. Going to university, starting a new job etc have the same effect on me. I get all jittery and easily bored. I can’t focus on anything long enough to be productive. I feel like, the sooner I can get into the house the sooner I can get on with life.

The limbo feeling, the ‘I’ll start living once I do *whatever*’ feeling, is familiar. I know I’m doing/thinking/feeling this. What I’ve learnt from thirty-one year’s of putting off living until after some ever changing point in time, is that there’s always another point in time, another event, another block that stops you moving forward. You have to live now, whatever is happening in your life. I can’t keep putting off doing things until after *whatever*.

So I’m not going to anymore.

Before new year I’m going to complete my little non-fiction book and arrange my short story collection into something publishable. I also want to get the second draft finished and draft out another novel (during NaNoWriMo). I’m going to look into publishing them all as ebooks.

I also need to find a job, either one that doesn’t fulfill but pays the bills or one that does, and also pays the bills. I’d like to review books professionally (as in for money), but I don’t know where to start.

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