Interlude - When is it time for me?

OK, so I really envy people that have time to commit to writing every day.  I know that sounds like an excuse (and truly - today it is.  I had time, and I chose to finish a craft project and work on a painting instead), but on most days, there just isn't a whole lot of time to carve out for something that requires a great deal of concentration. 

I work full time, and getting up earlier just isn't an option.  And here's how my weekly commitments play out:  Mondays are Zumba class. Tuesdays on occasion are City Council meetings, which require my presence for work. Wednesdays are writer's group chat meetings, which can run late. Thursdays are Zumba days (the ones I paid good money to attend).  Fridays are usually free, but nearly always involve running a kid somewhere and back to stay the night someplace, and every other one is a payday, which means Wal Mart grocery shopping and a fast food dinner.  Saturday mornings are for writer's group meetings, when I can get there, and the rest of the day usually involves spending time with my hubs on some sort of project.  Sundays are housework-catch-up days from the rest of the week, and most of the time involve a weeks' worth of ironing in front of the TV watching a movie. 

Ironically enough, I watched "The Tommyknockers" last week.  I never laughed so hard in my life.  When the main character invents the magic-enhanced-dream-typewriter that allows her to sleep for eight hours and wake up with a fully written novel (in her sleep!), I'm thinking 'Invent THAT, honey, and you'd be rich!!"  What I wouldn't give!  LOL

So it's mostly a matter of sneaking time in between, which is what everyone in the world does with a hobby when they want to devote more time to it.   And I know that if I disciplined myself more, I would get more done.  I reallly want this to be more than a hobby.  I've been telling stories as long as I can remember.  I learned to read when I was two, so the literary life has never been far from my heart.  I spent the majority of my school years writing stories when I was supposed to be doing homework, and I can remember joyful hours of passing dreadful bodice-ripper stories to my girlfriends, written longhand on backs and fronts of papers, and watching them eat them up and ask for more.  I always wanted this.

But I have also known the pain of writer's block, and that's where the excuses come in.  When the writing comes, it comes in a torrent.  I hardly want to eat or sleep, just to get the words on paper (or nowadays, in the puter).  But to write for an hour daily?  That's like trying to go to the bathroom when you're not ready.  Terrible analogy, I know... but think about it.  When you're ready, you're ready, but forcing progress when it just isn't there doesn't give very satisfying results.  LOL 

So... here I waste my time talking about writing, and not actually WRITING.  Blogging and posting on Facebook will bring me nothing, especially not satisfaction.  I need to carve out a little hole for taking down the words.  I dream my story almost every night.  I write the words in my head.  I just need to find the time to get them down. 

My characters aren't moving where I want them to, but maybe, if I follow where they lead, they'll tell me the rest of the story.  All I need to do is chronicle it.  But they're counting on me to listen. 

So much pressure.