Work. The drive to make money to take care of the bills and secure my living space is a big part of it. Because I choose to work out of my home (though, really, at my age and having been out of the physical workplace for the past 10 or so years while I was caring for my mom, I am not sure I have many other options) I have been feel as if any moment not spent on pounding the keyboard for pay is a stolen moment. After all, am I not behind on everything and should not everything I do be geared toward catching up? Even the mornings?

Only I don’t. Catch up, that is. In fact, I am falling further and further behind–not because the work is not there (though that is indeed the case, sometimes) but because … well, I find other things to do, lots of time wasting, yes, but I think there is a bit more to it. This has been quite a year.

Living space. I am not in my own living space. When the apartment complex I lived in went under foreclosure, I decided to rent a room instead of getting another apartment right away. The room is in the home of ex family (my former sisters and brother-in-law) and, barring a few incidents, they are very nice and all that. But I don’t feel settled, or home I suppose you could say. More like a long-term guest. And so, I no longer putter around in the early mornings, peeking out the windows at the sunrise, sitting quietly and thinking or jotting down mental or physical notes. I just stay in my room.

I need to get into my own place after the new year, but until then…

Depression. Or something. This has been a year changes and of not very good things happening and I think I failed to effectively deal with some of it. In fact, I know I did… only, I only know this looking back and considering some stuff. I imagine that there is enough distance now from events that I can see more clearly their effect on me and the oddness of my internal reactions. As an introvert I am fairly proficient at self-interrogation but, like most everyone, I’m also pretty good at lying to myself. Anyway, now that I am better at recognizing the problem, I will get better at finding the solutions.

I suppose it is perfect timing that all this is coming to a head at the end of the old year and in time for the beginning of the new. I am not a “New Year’s Resolutions” type person generally, but since I need to make changes and the new year is here, I might as well count my plans as being just that. Resolutions for the new year.

Writing more is, of course, one of my daily resolutions (and we can see how well I keep that one) but there are others. I have many ideas and plans but I think the first thing I will do is somehow find a way to take back my mornings. This is a start.

I’m trying to figure out what I think of the news. I saw the photo up above on the BBC site when I went there to search for news, and my first thought was — they are all so young. I’m sure there were probably older people there, caught in other photographs, but this one is just filled with people who were, probably, between seven and ten when NY was attacked on September 11, 2001. And unlike some other major events that occur with children being largely unaware of it, the media and trauma around 9/11 was almost inescapable. No matter where in the United States you lived.

So many of these young people probably grew up with the shadows of the Twin Towers and bin Laden looming over them — and they’ve known little else but the “U.S. at War” since. Half their lives, probably. But it’s a far away war, unless they are enlisted in the armed forces.

Their counterparts in Afghanistan, Iraq and, to a slightly lesser extent, Pakistan have also grown up in the shadow of these events. Only the violence of the aftermath of 9/11 surrounds them and permeates their daily lives (and sometimes ends them) in a way that the young people in the photo will likely never know. I don’t think this will change any time soon.

So, I don’t know. I don’t rejoice in anyone’s death, but I guess I am glad there is closure of a sort to … a chapter of 9/11. But the fallout from the actions of those who flew the planes on that September day — and of the wholly unnecessary and unjustified decision to invade Afghanistan to “retaliate”– will likely continue and be felt for a long time to come.

Mostly I guess I wish that things could have been different. But congratulations to President Obama and his team, and those who carried off this operation. Not with bombs dropped from 30,000 feet in the air, but with investigation, preparation, and targeted action. The way things should have been done in the first place.

This is not, of course, a very momentous decision, likely to change the world or anything. But it might change my world a little bit. I have dither issues, and when I can’t decide which of a few things to do, I’m very likely to do something else entirely.

The most competition is for the morning hours because it’s then I can think and plan, with only the noise of the birds for company. For some time I have given these hours to various “jobs”, but that was a mistake, for a few reasons. One, I find it depresses my entire day to begin it by doing something I dislike. My energy is depleted, and my will to do much else as well, especially creative type work. I don’t work on my book, I don’t write for my sites, and I find it a struggle to do something as simple as making a graphic for a project.

So, I’m going to turn it around. The morning, the quiet hours — those are for me. To create, to write, or simply to sit quietly and ponder. I need that time and I have to reject the thought that just because I work out of my home, that it is selfish or dumb to take it. That’s silly. Nine AM or so is time enough to begin on the other work; all the hours before then, whether I wake up at four in the morning or seven, are mine to do with what I will. So there.

Of course I need an end time, too, otherwise not only will I sluff off and do everything else but work, I’ll also wind up attempting to make up that work later in the day. Or, yes, in the early morning. So, why not follow tradition and just do terrible things — or, rather, “the job” between the hours of 9 and 5? Period. Whatever I get done during those hours (and it could be quite a lot, if I’d actually do it) I get done. And after that, I don’t worry about it until the next day. I think that will work.

Sure, you’d think I would have figured this out ages ago, but I seem to often try things the hard way first, sigh.

(The photo at the top is from what looks like an interesting site, Wanderlust and Lipstick. The tagline is “Your Destination for Women’s Travel.” I haven’t really looked though the site yet, as I was just looking for a photograph, but it appears they have all sorts of information on women traveling alone. And stories of women about their travels — the photo I used is from a woman’s account of her time in South Africa.)

Still, you see and hear stories of people being killed and maimed and wondering where “the West” is, how come we are not helping them. And you think, well, we have all this military power, why aren’t we using it for good? But the use of major firepower is never an unqualified good, and rarely does “the West” enter into conflicts, even humanitarian ones, just out of the goodness of our hearts. And what about all the people who are being killed by their governments and militaries whose fights we are not joining?

So. What to think.

I admit my first thought, when I heard that the French planes were patrolling the skies, and that the US military ships were off the coast, was of the reputed “Lafayette, we are here” saying, which, of course, is not at all analogous. But it does go to show how deeply the U.S. American mystique penetrates, or can penetrate, into even those who disdain it. Still, we “came to the rescue” of Europe in WWI and WWII — why not come to the rescue of the Libyans?

Of course millions of people died in those wars. (As an aside, I am always left a little bemused when people point to conflicts somewhere in Africa or in India or something, and bemoan the “savagery” of people who kill “their own.” They seem to forget that white Europeans and Americans spent almost the entire 20th century trying to annihilate one another.)

Anyway, I hope this is over soon.

[Update] Here is a view of the situation in Libya and other areas, from a reader at TPM, that sort expresses what I’d like to see as a result of this military action.

But I’ve not been writing. And, of course, there is a difference.

My book? I open the software, look at it, perhaps tap out a couple of ideas or so, then… well, I don’t really close it. I leave it open after that. Just in case, you know. In case I have a free moment. Or in case I get inspired. Or in case I am not worried anymore about this or that or the other thing. It’s only at the end of the day when it’s clear I am not going to do anything with it that I close it.

I’m a little frustrated with it, anyway. I love the story, but I have no clue, still, where it is going. I don’t know whether it is better to, once I get my groove back, keep slogging through it until it at least has a middle, if not yet an ending — or put it aside and start on something fresh and clear.

I worry about doing that because I have a habit of half-finishing things. And this is not even half! I’ll have to think on it, anyway. I think I may keep working on the plot, just change things a little. Maybe if I turn some incident in another direction a pathway will open up and I’ll see my way clear. It’s my first book and it’s likely few people at all will read it, but in order to get my first 300,000 of crap writing out of the way (from what I understand, that’s about the standard,) then… well, I have to get it out of the way. Then maybe the next will be better, and easier. Except I have no intention of writing a 300,000 word book! I wonder if other writing counts in the final total?

Anyway, I am going to try to get back into doing more writing for me, whether it’s blogging on whatever, or continuing getting into memoir writing, like I’ve been wanting to do, or working on the book. For one thing, I miss it, but also I want to keep in practice and all that.

The first, of course, is my book. I have been working on the outline and, so far, the best way to do that seems to be to ask myself – or the characters, or the story itself – questions. I know what is going to happen, pretty much, but I don’t have a clear idea of why. So everything that doesn’t make immediate sense to me, I am questioning. Not that all the answers will be manifest immediately in the story – what kind of suspense is that? But at least I will know that the characters aren’t flailing about to no purpose. So, lots of questions and digging for answers.

The other thing is a project, a community type thing, toodling its way through my head. I talked it over with a friend yesterday and she helped clarify my thinking immensely – but now comes the hard part. Planning it out, digging into the details and making sure eyes are crossed and tea is dotted around the table for everyone.

Most of my projects are great! – if I were a rich philanthropist or had angel investors on speed dial, lol. One of my problems is that I am a terrible capitalist, so things I do tend to have social value, but little (or no) monetary return. Mainly because I have limited interest in things that just make money, but stuff of social or humanitarian value often doesn’t bring in income. ‘Tis why we have nonprofit organizations, no?

However, with this project I have figured out how to have both. And, of course, I want to rush into it and start setting stuff up right away, but I can’t. More than that, for once I won’t. For one thing, I can see the details, I can see the steps to get it to where it needs to go, which is unusual. I am a “big picture” thinker – get an idea, see the idea in action in my head, but completely missing are the steps from point A to point B.

This time I can see the steps and, perhaps because my brain is slowing down in my oldish age, I can see the value of taking each one in turn – thus, my mantra.

Think. Plan. Do.