A day in the life.
Step one: Get up, despite the protests of my cats, my spine, the rest of my body, and the lingering remains of whatever dream I was previously blissfully enjoying. Pray that I remembered to pack my bags for work the night before, as insomnia and an overactive mind often combine to prevent me from remembering anything in the morning, including shoes, my bus pass, and pants.
Step two: Return to the house for shoes, my bus pass, and pants.
Step three: Commute. Depending on how much sleep I got the night before, this step is either 'the snooze button,' 'edits,' 'inking,' or 'how I manage to read so damn much despite the rest of my schedule.' Regardless, I leave my house at 5:35 AM to get to San Francisco by 7:00 AM, which gives you an idea of the amount of time I'm playing with here. It's a miracle I have not yet been fished out of the Bay.
Step four: Spend the day at work. This is not terribly exciting for the purposes of anyone but me. If possible, I take a long walk during my lunch break, and spend it discussing potential edits with anyone who's available to take the call. Some days, I actually spend my lunch break editing. I am the least exciting person in the world.
Step five: Repeat the commute, in reverse, with the extra added bonus of walking home from the train station on the other end. I like walking, so this is actually a nice thing. I don't do it Wednesday or Thursday, because I have standing social plans, but those standing social plans allow me to do just as much walking on, y'know, different streets.
Step six: Get home. Write like I was about to be forbidden to use the English language for a week. Occasionally wish I would be forbidden to use the English language for a week, as I might then do some damn laundry already.
Step seven: Watch television. This is the only reliable method of turning off my brain enough to let me sleep.
Step eight: Sleep.
...so you see, I do sleep. It's just, well, low-priority, and at the far end of a lot of hectic. Blah.
Step two: Return to the house for shoes, my bus pass, and pants.
Step three: Commute. Depending on how much sleep I got the night before, this step is either 'the snooze button,' 'edits,' 'inking,' or 'how I manage to read so damn much despite the rest of my schedule.' Regardless, I leave my house at 5:35 AM to get to San Francisco by 7:00 AM, which gives you an idea of the amount of time I'm playing with here. It's a miracle I have not yet been fished out of the Bay.
Step four: Spend the day at work. This is not terribly exciting for the purposes of anyone but me. If possible, I take a long walk during my lunch break, and spend it discussing potential edits with anyone who's available to take the call. Some days, I actually spend my lunch break editing. I am the least exciting person in the world.
Step five: Repeat the commute, in reverse, with the extra added bonus of walking home from the train station on the other end. I like walking, so this is actually a nice thing. I don't do it Wednesday or Thursday, because I have standing social plans, but those standing social plans allow me to do just as much walking on, y'know, different streets.
Step six: Get home. Write like I was about to be forbidden to use the English language for a week. Occasionally wish I would be forbidden to use the English language for a week, as I might then do some damn laundry already.
Step seven: Watch television. This is the only reliable method of turning off my brain enough to let me sleep.
Step eight: Sleep.
...so you see, I do sleep. It's just, well, low-priority, and at the far end of a lot of hectic. Blah.