"Do you people understand the pressure I am under?"! That thought just keeps circling incessantly as my fingers are poised over this keyboard to no avail. As the seconds tick by, these precious moments to myself evaporate and are irretrievable. Sensing that this quiet time is limited and yet, nebulously defined; I am practically incapacitated by fear. She is going to wake up any second.
Hey, I get that I am really the only one who cares about this little blog of mine. No, really, you don't have to pretend. I am fine with that. But the thing is, I do care. In my own mind, okay, I have a huge audience that are feverishly anticipating my next post. (Whatever. It gets me through the day, alright.) This is my job; my art. I am passionate about it. (If you knew me, you'd understand. I have an overdeveloped sense of passion for pursuing things that just don't really matter.)
Ah, the subtle breath of awakening from the next room, which means my own little world will be imploding in about 3 minutes. Yes, you're right. That is probably a good thing.
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Go ahead, make my day.