Rebalancing the Scale When Life’s Boot Is On Your Throat

The subtitle of Better Strangers is “A Writer’s Life in the Balance.” (That might not show up on your smart phone, but it’s there…on the front page…I promise.)

The idea behind this weblog was to have a platform where I could share my own experiences trying to break into the world of the hybrid author (self-published [check] and traditionally published [working on that one]) while filling the roles of:

1) husband and

2) father to two kids, a bluetick coonhound, and a box turtle.

Okay, the turtle–King Bob–isn’t much of a burden.

Some of you might not think that’s very much of a challenge, me being “retired,” and all. And if I’m being honest with myself, I guess it’s not…especially with the kids in school all day long.

But shit just got real, y’all!

A few weeks ago I started a part-time job at the St. Augustine Pirate & Treasure Museum working an average of five hours a day, four times a week. With a half-hour commute each way, that means I’m out of the house at least 24 hours every seven days.

Driving to and from the Ancient City, I can still work on my book thanks to the soundtrack I put together [How I Use “Soundtracks” To Help Me Write When I’m Not Writing], but there’s definitely no chance for putting pen to paper during the other 20 hours, so things are slow-going on the manuscript completion front. And soon I’ll also be giving tours at the museum which means I’ll likely be working more than just four days a week.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m NOT complaining. The extra money is something we certainly need, and working at the Pirate Museum is a dream come true. I haven’t had this much fun on a job since living at sea in the Nasty Nic (USS Nicholson) and Sammy B. (USS Samuel B. Roberts)!

Plus, while a tour guide at the museum has to know a lot about pirates, I would argue–after working there for a month now–the bloke working the floor in Ye Olde Treasure Shoppe selling tickets, t-shirts, and shot glasses has to know just as much as (more than?) the pirate “captains” giving tours.

Since 80% (just guessing) of the visitors are going through the museum sans guide, who do you think they ask when they have questions about what they just viewed when they come through the door at the end, back into Ye Olde Treasure Shoppe (it’s actually called that–more fitting than just calling it a “gift shop”)? That’s right. They ask the same person who sold them the ticket to get in, that’s who. And that means research.

Now, I know quite a bit about pirates from years of reading and occasionally writing about them [Yo-Ho-Ho and a Bottle of Rum], but my new job has forced me to revisit those old books and delve into some new ones, as well…and that means more time away from my true occupation of being an author.

“So that’s the boot on your throat?”

Not exactly. I imagine literally having someone’s boot…or shoe…or even a bare foot crushing your windpipe would be immensely painful. But working at the museum and rekindling my inner-student–especially studying something I love–puts a little more weight on the “life” side of the scale.

WritersLife

Now, add my yard to that side.

“What?”

This time last year, we reshuffled the deck and moved to Florida [Matt Frick]. We found a great house in a great area, and all was well. Except, along with the fantastic house in the fantastic community, we bought a not-so-fantastic yard. It could be described, with no arguing on my part, as the worst yard in the neighborhood.

I’m no green-thumb, to be sure, but I can’t say that everything I touch that has roots in soil automatically dies. No, our yard was on its last legs when we moved in. It was gasping for breath and dying a slow death all on its own. Precisely because I did NOT touch it.

Sure, I mowed the grass a few times in the summer, but aside from a few weeks of watering in the past 12 months, I did nothing to help it come back to life…until about two weeks ago.

Following the guidance of a lawn care expert we hired to eradicate the chinch bugs killing our grass and the fungus/mold choking out our shrubbery, my wife and I proceeded to cut and plant sod throughout our entire front yard and 3/4 of the back and side yards. That translated to anywhere from 9 to 11 hours of our lives (each), four out of five days last week, consumed with back-breaking, fingernail and toenail-blackening (it’s Florida–even yard work is done in flip-flops), sweat-inducing, dirty work.

After digging countless holes with that damn post-hole digger, I felt as if my arms and shoulders were popping muscles like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Predator. Alas, there is no visible evidence that such a transformation took place.

So add in completely unanticipated time-sucking manual labor, and the scale tips even further away from that writer’s life balance.

Yep. And the school year just ended yesterday.

“I’m bored,” has already started.

Time to rebalance the scale.

Rebalancing that scale between meeting life’s demands and realizing the dream of publishing a book is not an easy thing to do. But I think I know how to make it happen. More importantly, I believe I can find that balance again and actually make life more enjoyable–for me and my family.

King Bob (the box turtle) doesn’t care what I do, as long as he has clean water and meal worms.

The solution I came up with includes both internal and external elements, but each are really a matter of perspective and prioritizing to reduce stress and increase efficiency–and ultimately, balance the scale.

Internally, I’m trying to stop giving too much weight to the objects on the “life” side of the scale which I (and most folks) would consider a burden. (<==Note to wife: This does not include our family. I love y’all!)

Take the yard, for instance. Timing played a part in moving this project high on the priority list. When the company we ordered from dropped a whole palette of St. Augustine sod on our driveway, we were on the clock to get that stuff in the ground before it died.

I toiled like a madman Wednesday evening and Thursday morning before work…planting grass that had already started to shrivel on the palette. Then, while I was at the museum, my wife found out from the lawn care guy that we should water the pile of side…the giant pile in our driveway…at least three times a day. You know, to keep it alive before we cut it into plugs, dig holes, and plant it. (I told you I didn’t have a green thumb.)

When I got home from work, we proceeded to replace the dead sod plugs in half of our front yard. We only got half done because the sun called it a day, and it was too dark. *sigh*

But on Saturday, we had two soccer games in the morning, and I had to work at the Pirate Museum from 2 p.m. ’til closing. This is where the rebalancing started.

We decided our priorities did not include finishing the lawn that day (now that we knew the secret of watering the damn grass pile in front of the garage). Instead, we went to the kids’ games, and I went to work without a second thought about the worst yard in the neighborhood.

I had the next three days off, so we worked like a couple possessed, replacing the bad sod and finishing the rest of the yard. The whole yard. It was hard work, but I also counted that work as exercise (which it absolutely was), and I didn’t hit the gym (in our garage) for the whole three days. See a little change of perspective bought me some free time there?

Externally, I’ve focused more on practicing what I preach. I started this blog post while getting an oil change, and I’m finishing it while the kids are off taking a nap or playing with friends after my wife took them to the neighborhood pool.

Oh, I also went grocery shopping and returned 13 bags of unused top soil to Ace Hardware while they were swimming.

Efficiency.

My wife plays a HUGE part in this rebalancing, whether she realizes it or not. The whole “life” thing is definitely a team effort. She helps keeps the plates spinning when they start to wobble. And the show goes on.

Perhaps the most important part of trying to keep A Writer’s Life in the Balance is reminding myself how much I enjoy writing. I really do enjoy it.

And I also enjoy being a pirate…

work

…who does yard work.