What Am I Even Doing Here?

For reals

The semester ended some weeks ago and summer break has officially begun — which sounds like freedom until you look at my actual life.

I’m on deadline for two picture books with dream clients. I don’t say that as a flex. I say it because my days are no longer about grading and are now filled with sketches, revisions, illustration notes, emails, and promotion materials that multiply faster than I can answer them. I’m trying to keep up with social media and failing miserably. There’s a growing stack of books I bought this year and haven’t cracked. I am giving my sketchbook the silent treatment. I’m cooking more, which I love, but family responsibilities are in full gear and somewhere in there I was should be revising multiple manuscripts. I’m not getting the bike rides in that I planned. I’m running on caffeine. Lot’s of caffeine. I can’t remember if I walked the dogs and I’m pretty sure I haven’t eaten a vegetable in days.

And yet here I am, writing a Substack.

Do I sound like I’m drowning or worse, complaining? I hope not. Viktor Frankl once said that the question can no longer be what we expect from life, but only what life expects of us. This is life. Filled with all its messiness, all its demands, all its unexpected gifts. I wouldn’t have it any other way. So it’s back to the drawing board with me. Until next week!

Cheers.