I’ve been working on the book for the last couple of months…I mean, I get up before the sun rises in the east and sit at the desk, open my laptop, and then start typing in – all before breakfast.
I don’t know why, but I just cannot help it. I know I cannot make it through by the sun sets for the day. Writing a book is a long, time-consuming process, but I feel guilty if I don’t engage in that ritual in the morning.
The rest of the morning is spent on taking care of my kid, another important work. When lunch is just about to finish, I feel itchy…I feel this urgency of getting my job done as soon as possible, knowing that, again, it will take some more months to get it completed.
This urge will be eclipsed so easily, however, by the even greater duty of having to see my (elder) kid at the kindergarten.
When one of the family members is sick (like having a cold, especially at this time of the year, or when a cold is in at the kindergarten, no one child is immune to it), things will be even more confused and chaotic. By the time I take care of everyone, this time, I will be sick. But life goes on just as if nothing happens.
My life being occupied by my children, I have realized that I cannot work as punctually as I did before. It is very hard to keep the promise (as far as my job is concerned). Work makes little progress. Only little by little can I get things done. One month was all that I needed to complete an entire book, but now I need more than a year. I feel guilty on one hand because most other people work like a horse, but I am proud of my life at the same time, because I am now able to put priority on something that does not bring to me anything…but a smile and laughter.