a day job

A friend, a beautiful and talented friend, but a friend, asked me today how I managed to blog so much and asked if I had a "day job".

I am, and have always been, something of a workaholic. It is difficult for me to move forward at anything short of full throttle. So yes, I blog. I write poetry. I record. I podcast. I publish my own books and CDs as well as assist other writers in the design and editing of their books. I am working on two novels at the same time. I cook. I clean. I am hoping to restart my mummified social life. I walk the dog, help my sons with their homework and hold a full-time salaried job as a business development manager (a glorified title for a proposal manager) for a small defense contractor.

Yes, the irony. But I'd probably jump at the chance to work for a non-defense contractor, but work I must. I can't imagine slowing down. I put in 60 hour weeks and take home work, and am grossly under respected and under compensated for the impact I have, but a job is a job is a job and my creditors appreciate the trickle. A co-worker once commented that he figured my wife was kept awake at night listening to the sound of the gears in my head turning. When I had a wife.

I'll sleep when I'm dead. Until then, just try to keep up with me.