Last year I made the decision to quit attending writing group. I had seen it coming in Friday homeworks not being passed in, (the meetings are on Thursday night), school and other projects not worked on, dirty dishes and dinner food left out, and the house an even more of a mess than usual. At first I tried to ignore it; claiming my nights out as my own. But finally, I knew where I should be; here, doing the reading, the math, the winter dioramas, ensuring some level of order.
I assured myself, I would write at home. Finish my book and just get the thing published. As of today it has sat for endless monthes with only a weeks worth of edits to finish. So close, but as they say in space -- but yet so far.
Last night as we walked to the school for an event, we passed by the meeting place. No cars, oh yeah, I thought, it's not the right night. I smiled and put out a huge sigh of relief, I wouldn't have missed a meeting this Thursday. A Thursday, where life and writing would not have collided violently. But I was wrong.
After the event I learned the group was out and about celebrating their 4 year anniversary, just not at the usual watering hole. And I would have missed it.
Was my decision to leave the correct one? Sadly, yes. Not all decisions once made shake the dust off their boots and move on. Life is not so clear cut, though I wish I could forget all those fun writing times, for they do pull on my heart strings. But then why deny myself those memories.
Lately my only writing is on this blog, and for now that will have to do. BUT my lovelies know, don't disturb mommy, for this is my twenty minutes a day, and then the rest is their's. And, yes most Thursdays, I am truly fine with that.