Monday, March 26, 2012

How you know...

You know you're a writer when you have a day off...
I mean, you have a day completely to yourself...
Well, in the hypothetical case of having a day completely to yourself...
You know, when you're daydreaming about such a completely crazy idea...
No work...
No school trips...
No meals to prepare...
No Farmville...
No dog to walk... maybe to cuddle with, though...
I mean a day where everything you do is completely up to you...
And money isn't an object. You could do anything. Because, after all, it is a dream, right?
So on this day where you can do anything you want to do...

The only thing you can think about doing is writing and how great it would be to have a day all to yourself where you could write without any interruptions. Especially stupid telemarketing phone calls.

That's when you know you're finally, really, a writer.


  1. I call those days...Saturdays. Except when I'm feeling lazy, like pretty much all winter.

  2. A whole day to write? What on earth is that like?

  3. A day without interruptions. I wonder what that would be like.

    I never get telemarketing calls anymore. Not that I miss them.

  4. Funny, I had a day sorta like that on Saturday this past weekend. I ended up watching YouTube videos and 'outlining' things. I wrote about a paragraph's worth of stuff - none of it prose really, just worldbuilding. Then I moped all day Sunday for being such a loser on Saturday.

    Then my wife came home Sunday night and wanted to know how all my alone time was... that was not a pleasant conversation.

  5. And on that glorious day off...I still manage not to get any writing done. That's how I know I'm doomed.

  6. Definitely! But those days pass so quickly! Why are the other ones sooo long?

    We need a writer's commune.

  7. Here, here! (Or would that be hear, hear?) I wouldn't know what a day like that looked like, but I can imagine it...'cuz I'm a writer and all...

  8. Great poem. If money were no object though, I'd have the best looking prostitutes money could buy and have sex until I was disgusted by it. Maybe after that, I'd write about it. Because they were prostitutes...I could tell them to get the hell out, and I'd have quite time again.

  9. bru: I'm glad!

    Grumpy: I have envy. What's Saturday?

    Alex: I don't know...

    M.J.: I lose count of all the stupid calls we get. And it's worse since we moved, because not only do we get calls meant for us but we get calls meant for the people that used to have this number.

    Rusty: Well, in that case, you probably deserved it :P

    ABftS: Now, it's time to sing the "Doom" song!

    Pish: I wouldn't know how quickly they go since I haven't had one.

    Shannon: Pretty sure it's "hear, hear," but I'm not looking it up right now.

    I can't imagine it, so you must be better than me.

    Michael: Well... it wasn't really meant as a poem, but I'll take it.

  10. I guess I must be a writer then :-)

  11. Sarah P: Well, you must be, then! :)