Yesterday I stopped to think about my schedule.
I got up yesterday at 5:30 - as always - showered and dressed. Then I worked at my computer: I posted to this blog, transferred a few more addresses from a PDF file to an Excel spreadsheet which will be my mailing list. (I'm up to 250 names and addresses as of this morning.) I sent emails to a couple of writer friends. At 7:00 AM, I drove to Stephenson High School where I work. I taught two AP classes from 8:10 until 11:15 - during my 25-minute lunch break, I ate a sandwich as I prepared for my third block test-prep class. Fourth block is my planning period, and I took a few minutes to send an email to Mary Rebecca White whose new novel, A Soft Place to Land, is due out in April, and whom I plan to interview February 10th for Georgia Public Broadcasting's Cover to Cover. I graded papers until 3:10. Three students came in - one to turn in a late assignment, one who wanted a grade printout to see what assignments he was missing, and another who needed a last-minute teacher recommendation for a study-abroad program. When they left, I continued grading; I vowed to myself I would not leave school until I had all my grading done, because I knew I had a new flock of papers coming in the next day. Fortunately, most of the grades were simple, and I was able to leave around four-thirty.
When I got home around five, I transferred some more names into my mailing-list spreadsheet, checked my emails (the Susan White interview is confirmed) sent another email to yet another writer, Patricia Sprinkle, who has a new book out this Spring, to get a reader's copy, so I can interview her. Then I finished up my application for the Sewanee Writers' Conference in Tennessee. (These last things I did with the TV on - I forget what we were watching, something recorded on our DVR.) I went to bed around nine and fell into a deep sleep.
Woke up again this morning.
Mind you, I'm not complaining; I'm bragging. This is the writer's life. It's fun, but full and demanding, and it's no place for weaklings or wanabees. Are you up for it?