Well, my webcounter on my journal page snuck over 40,000 without me realizing it, so I guess I'm not going to have any sort of nifty-cool award or prize for the lucky soul that popped it over the edge.

I've barely been paying attention to the internet lately (as those of you who have sent me emails lately know--since I've been miserable about responding.) And of course there was that week of no-entry, which is kind of a clue to the fact that I've either been unspeakably lazy, or otherwise occupied. I'd like to say right now though, that I have not, in fact, been unspeakably lazy.

It's odd, in a way, that I feel so limited on time to do stuff. I work 80 hours every two weeks, like most normal-working folk. However, I only work seven days out of that fourteen day period since I work 12-hour shifts. I should have plenty of time to attend to everything in my life that needs attending, and I should certainly have time to write, get manuscripts printed out and sent off, and attend to the business end of being a writer. Yes, I too read Ron's recent entry about time, scheduling, and priorities, and I felt a brief spasm of guilt for not being better able to organize my life and make the time to write, since after all, I consider myself a writer so therefore if I'm serious about being a writer I should make the time to write, thus proving that I'm serious about being a writer... You get the drift.

Except... except... that writing is not my sole purpose for living. Oh, I do love it, and I still want to be published and have other people read my words, but it is not the be-all and end-all of my existence. Personally, I don't think it should be the be-all and end-all of anyone's existence. Even as organized and dedicated as Ron is, it isn't everything to him. He still has priorities of family and work and recreation.

So, the thing is, as loyal readers are surely aware, I have a new job, and I absolutely, utterly love it. I can't wait to go to work, I hate my days off. It's challenging, interesting, stimulating, frightening... and lots of other "ing" words. I want to make it in this line of work incredibly badly.

And I have 12 weeks to learn darn near everything. At the end of twelve weeks the powers-that-be will decide whether I am competent enough to go out on patrol on my own, and if I'm not, then there goes my law enforcement career. 12 weeks is a long time, right? Well... figure that it's only 6 pay periods, and I only work 7 days per pay period, it's only 42 days of training. I've already been through 2 1/2 weeks of training, and have only 33 days left to learn it all. And I know I'm not even close to knowing it all right now.

Therefore, instead of paying any attention to writing, I'm studying. And studying. And studying. My FTO gave me a couple of short tests the other day (tests that he'd planned on giving me in a couple of weeks, but he wanted me to take them now just to see where I was at.) One test in particular made me realize how much work I need to do. It was just a list of numbers... about 30 code numbers from the Louisiana Revised Statutes, and my job was to write in the appropriate statute next to the number. I looked at the numbers: 14:30, 14:64.2, 14:34.1, 14:134, 14:27...

I got about three right. Ugh. So this weekend I made up flash cards, with over a hundred codes and statutes, and I drilled and studied. Then I read the Family Law manual that he'd given me, and then the DA's handbook that he'd given me...

I can write at any time in my life I want. There's no set period in my life that I have to "make it." Whereas I only have 9 more weeks to "make it" in this new job. And I absolutely refuse to fuck this up. I'm not going to make time to write. Any time that I can squeeze out of my schedule to write, is time that I should be studying.

And there you have it. That's why I don't talk much about my writing anymore, even though this started out as a Writer's Journal. I'm sure that's why I didn't win one of the "Writing Journal Excellence" awards, since I don't talk about the writing much anymore. But I supose that anyone who is still reading this journal doesn't really give a damn anyway. You're all voyeurs, sneaking a peek into my strange little life, no matter what the subject at hand may be.

Enjoy yourselves!

On a somewhat related note, I want to take the time to publicly thank my parents for being incredibly supportive in this career change. I'm not sure I'd be able to do this without them.

On a completely unrelated note, I want to send best wishes for a speedy recovery to my brother who managed to bust his leg in two places when he decided to fall down a spiral staircase. Darn silly thing for him to do, in my opinion, but hey, who am I to judge?