Getting back to writing after a year off for school gives me both a parallel path and a need to prioritize. Meeting our personal expectations as writers and within the day-time professional sphere can be more than challenging. I’d dare say my own expectations for myself are high in all areas. There’s a story coming about that, just you wait. Many of the characters I create are driven. Some of the children in the spheres I run in are (extremely) into the final product. Horse kids spit-shine their saddles, and don’t even touch them when someone looks at the thing. Kiddos in preschool tell me about what they learned at their cram school earlier in the week – h*ck there are six after-school programs in my town and at least seven more each in the bigger towns to both the north and south. The area is known for Type-A personalities and feeling comfortable in ensuring perfection. I can’t even imagine how many closeted Pinterest-moms there are around here.
What does that mean?
My expectations are high, but I’m societally inclined to it. The expectation for success was set long ago in the middle class. Succeed or die. Or worse, succeed at finishing the books or the world will never know you existed.
Code switching hurts productivity. Pick a single task and a definitive end-point. Focus, focus, focus, take a day off once in a while so you don’t eat the whole week trying to recover.