Freedom

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I have time. Four weeks to be precise. Wonderful beatiul amazing vacation. The reason? I quit my job. Don’t worry, I made sure first that I had a new job to go to. I'm ever concious of being the sole breadwinner of the house. But I carved out for myself this month of blessed freedom in between jobs. “To Write.” I said.

So I didn’t make plans, didn’t even commit to woking on the thesis that’s haunted me all year, freed up my diary and my days for one mission, to finish my book.

I have the most time on my hands since I started working, after college. That was a long long time ago.  I had big plans.

But so far I’ve read at least ten novels, gone to the pool, slep till midday, basically did everything except write.

The irony.

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