At Sixes and Sevens

Stress is a killer. We all know this. But, I think we tend to underestimate the many, many ways stress wreaks havoc with your life.

Bryan lost his job at the end of April. He got another one right away, so I didn't worry too much. But then they kept stringing him along, taking their time, and then ultimately said no thanks. After almost a month of thinking he'd be starting any day now, he found out he needed to keep looking.

That really shook his confidence, as did the "thank, but no thanks" rejections he got from two other places. So, at the end of two months, he was still jobless, still waiting to hear on applications, still whittling down his options--and trying to figure out how never to be in this situation again. Because you know, if you've followed our story at all, that this happens every few years. And it totally stinks.

Right after he lost his job I got sick. Stress. Then, just when I was thinking I needed to start job hunting myself, I got sick again. That was about the same time he got the official *no* from the first place. After I got better, I put in applications. Then my grandma died, and my brother paid for me to go out for the funeral. I got the first interview call while I was in Utah, and had to explain to a total stranger why I couldn't make the interview that day.

Contrary to Bryan's experience, I've been offered every job I've applied for so far. I had to turn down the video store job when being there gave me a continual creeped out feeling. Not a good indicator for a job. Then I worked at the second place for about three or four days, if you count the day they sent me home because their computer systems didn't recognize me as an employee yet. I can only describe that incident as soul-sucking. It felt damaging to even be there. I'm still piecing that together in my mind. But I only quit AFTER I got another, part time, job cleaning 3 nights a week.

Today, I got another call for an interview for a full time day job. I'm going for it. We need it. Bryan and the boys are working part time at a ranch, which is great (right now anything is great), but it's not enough to sustain the family. We've lost our car. The other two cars aren't going to last much longer. The dogs need their shots. Things are basically falling apart.

All of this chaos has wreaked havoc with my creativity. I want so badly to be writing, but the stress is killing me. I'm speeding headlong into my deadlines with nothing to show for it. And I don't know how to get back on the wagon. I'd been doing so well these last months--finishing projects, getting edits done, publishing completed works. And now I'm stagnate. I haven't done anything since I finished the edits on Birthright and put it up on Kindle Scout. I don't know how to reactivate my writer mojo.

I know that you know that I'd rather be writing and publishing. But, right now, those pesky survival needs come first. We've got to pay rent, utilities, keep our kids clothed and fed, etc. I haven't given up on my writing, but for a while it may have to take a back seat. Again.

And that really hurts my heart.