How Do You Break Up With a Vampire?

I don't want to sound ungrateful, I really don't, but there is this thing that is sucking the life out of me. I try to resist it's charms, to just let it be a part of my life, but sometimes it consumes me to the point where I simply feel drained. On the worst days, I feel like I'm a shell of a person. Hollow on the inside - nothing left to give. This thing, this Vampire, is my job.

There are aspects of my job that I really love. The people I work with are tremendous, I wouldn't trade knowing them and spending time with them for anything. I love being able to utilize my brain, love helping out my customers when they feel like there's no way they can do it on their own, love conquering difficult problems. Fantastic. But all this love comes with a price tag: my energy. There's just not a lot left over after I'm done with my day. The charming Vampire has taken it to feed his own need.

So, what do I do? How do I keep my job but place enough boundaries on it so that I can function after I leave the office? I'm wading into a season of my work that is incredibly taxing (no, I'm not a CPA) - and well, wading is not really the word. I'm more "neck deep". This is the time where my greatest challenge is to keep my head above water, choke it out if I get pulled under, and move on. For months.

Is there a way to turn this Vampire into just a regular person in my life? Once turned to a blood sucking fiend, can it ever return? I'm not sure. Also not sure if I should break up and join the world of the living. This Vampire does provide me a lifeline. I wish I could figure out how to keep it at arms distance until I know I can sustain on my own. But, maybe that's not the way it happens. I have no clue.

Meanwhile, I want to work on that draft of my novel. I want to revise it, make it complete and get it out to readers. My goal is to do that before mid-July. The Pacific Northwest Writers Conference is coming then and it would be a fantastic thing to go and pitch to agents and editors, see what's out there, to learn some good lessons. Please, Mr. Vampire, leave a little blood in me so that I can do this? I'd appreciate it.

Looking at the Horse

Days like this remind me of recovering from a nasty cold. Days when I'd been feeling so poorly for so long that I'd forgotten what it felt like to be "normal". Then at some point it occurs to me that I'm ok, doing just fine, my skin is mine again. Lately, I've been comfortable in my skin again, which is a good place to be. That's not to say that my eyes don't look at things differently, that my heart doesn't want to reach out less, but it's more about being in harmony - head and heart working together, friends once again.

Which makes me think I should start looking at the horse again. The horse, namely, is my novel. It's been set aside for about four weeks, and rightly so, but I'm wondering if it's time to give it a look-see. I keep thinking "I need to get back on the horse", except I didn't fall off it. Or off the wagon. Or any moving article. I simply put the horse in it's coral, letting hang out without me. But now my skin is mine again.

Maybe it's time to get reacquainted.

I don't know if I'll like what I have any more, I don't know if I'll want to approach things differently or not. Will it be like meeting an old boyfriend for coffee? Yes, we had fire, my novel and I. We had great times and times when we fought. Times when my thoughts were consumed by it, dreams were filled with it, and wrists ached from typing it. It's been work and play, passion and fuel for what has been called my "grumpy pants". I've thought about letting hang out alone forever, possibly letting rot. But you know, that seems cruel - to it and to me.

It's time to look at the horse...