I gave this big speech to Jack about priorities. He wants to do it all: handball, swimming, music school twice a week, choir, and now... ropeskipping. And it's just too much. For me, for poor Marie and Charlie who have to sit in the car too much, and for him, because he's exhausted already in his second week of school. So I told him he had to drop something. And thank fuck, mercy, and all your combined deities, because he dropped choir, which is a very sad thing, but at the same time I don't have to do the Friday night ride of hell any more in which I take him several towns away through peak time traffic to be in choir from six till eight. Did I mention this was on bloody Friday night, when everyone else is collapsed in their sofas, resting after a hard week's work?
Anyway - back to the theme of the day: priorities. I'm starting my piano lessons next week, and I accidentally booked them for a Tuesday night, which clashes with my once-monthly book club. The double booking was an accident, but when I realised my mistake, it dawned on me that I could use the same speech I just gave to Jack. So, however much it pains me, I have decided that there will be no more book club this year. If I want to finally write something substantial for myself - and what does the world need more than another unpublished "author" who takes herself seriously - I don't need to also read ten books other people picked. I will miss it, but I can only do so much. (Also blogs - this one and others - have to come after the other writing for which I apologise dear reader.)
The world makes more sense to me now. I was only running Jack to that choir every week because I loved it so much when I was a kid anyway. He needs to find his own amazing experiences, and he will. Hopefully much closer to home. And I am finally sitting down to write a bit more. In between snotty noses, school runs, and ropeskipping drop offs. All I need now is a place to sit down on my own in the evenings. The couple of hours I can find here and there during the day just won't cut it, and sitting on my bed at night with my laptop on my knees may still seem romantic just now, but I'm sure it won't be when my back gives out. A room of my own won't be possible, but perhaps I can find a small corner table.
So, "priorities" is my theme of the week.
Igor will be proud of me. And more importantly, I will, too.