Spoiler alert: It wasn’t writing!
So I don’t recommend moving. To anyone. If you must do so, maybe don’t do what I did and pack your own boxes, stuff and rearrange them in a portable storage unit fifty thousand times, freak out when your piano is too heavy to budge, and throw together a moving sale the night before you really need a bunch of stuff gone.
And definitely don’t sell your house before your new one is built. Definitely don’t recommend that either. Preferably have somewhere to live that isn’t your old bedroom in your parent’s house. And don’t move right before your kid starts school for the first time, because you definitely don’t want to have to pull them from one school district and shove them in another one temporarily. Learn from my mistakes.
My summer was spent with boxes. Filling them, moving them, hating them. I fit in playing a couple of Castlevania games but not much else. Every time I’d look at my writing I’d shrivel away like a vampire that got too close to the sun. My computer probably started to feel like Jessie when her owner shoved her under the bed with all the other crap she didn’t care about anymore.
In all honesty I don’t even want to be writing this post right now. I’m still tired, burned out. But I’m trying.
So summer wasn’t great. But that means fall can only be an improvement.
Don’t question that.
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