Today I feel angst-y. I haven't had my usual writing time this week due to appointments of various kinds. Finally this morning I was going to have a couple of hours to write before going to teach writing. But my husband woke up with a viral respiratory infection. Poor guy. But yeah... Another morning of not writing.
I think it's the feeling that there's so much to do - many of the applications to big contests are coming due soon, I'm in the middle of a really difficult revision on a play, I have a new play I'm also thinking about, and it's the part of the semester when I'm reading drafts from my students.
And these are all good things. But today, there's the sense that my head's gonna explode if I can't get some large chunks of time to write.
The real truth though is even if I had time to write today, all of the noise in my life right now may not lend itself to good writing.
While I'm sure this sounds like I'm complaining, I say all of this to remind myself that days like this come. And the dissatisfaction I'm feeling about being stuck in my script and not having enough time and wanting desperately to write something that matters and resonates -- days like these can be followed by a period of productivity and breakthroughs. If I let it. If I can create some space where I can listen and get words on paper.
Angst can be good. It's telling me, "Stacey, shut things off and get quiet and listen. You've got something to say that needs saying."