The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
I’ve been a bit quiet here and in social media lately.
We’re in the middle of December. Where was my triumphant NaNoWriMo victory post? Where is all the news and excitement about my writing projects? What the hell happened to Brian C. E. Buhl (or, for those of you that like to look at my URL and give me grief, Briancè)?
Well, it’s like this…
I work in the energy industry. I’m not going to bore you with the details, but the energy industry is driven by state and federal incentive programs, which have due dates based on the calendar year. That means that as the end of the year approaches, projects that have dallied suddenly become frenetic. Everything has to be done immediately, and there is simply too much to do in the amount of time available.
I’m not going to make this a giant excuse post. I’m just going to say that I prioritized the job I’m getting paid to do over the job I’m not getting paid to do. Programming work intensified, and I had to cut back in other places.
It didn’t feel good. There was a moment in mid November when I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to make my goal. I felt it, and it was cold. I became quite surly for a while, there.
But we’re into December, now. Christmas is right over there, approaching like a boulder tumbling down a hill. It’ll be upon me, soon. I haven’t done any shopping yet. I sure hope I get that done.
In other news, I’m still playing in both the River City Concert Band and the River City Swing Band. Like my writing time, my music time has suffered some casualties in this busy work time. I had to miss a concert on Sunday, and a practice on Monday, all due to work. I have a performance this Friday, and another this Sunday, neither of which I’ll miss. If you’re in the Sacramento area and you’re interested in attending, leave a comment and I’ll get you the details.
It’s not all gloom and doom. I’m not an unappreciated wage slave at work. They recognize that I’m working really hard and making sacrifices, and they’re supportive. I feel appreciated, even though I feel a bit overworked. That’s quite a feat, which says something about my employer.
So, I’m still alive, even if I’m off doing “real life.” It’s Wednesday evening, and I’m at my writing Starbucks. Michael is here, working feverishly on the next Dead Weight book. It feels like old times. It feels like good times.