I'm writing this post in the computer room and feeling guilty for not being in the living room, playing cars with my son.
Yesterday I felt guilty for washing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen instead of reading books to the kids.
After the kids are in bed each night, I feel guilty for writing instead of spending time with my husband.
And when I write, I feel guilty for working on projects other than my novel...
This is my life: all guilt, all the time. I can't get away from it. No matter what I'm doing--particularly if I'm doing something that happens to be for me, like writing--I feel like there's something more important that I should be working on instead. One day, my life stopped being my sole focus, and that was the day Guilt came to stay. He might have arrived when my husband and I married, but most likely, he was birthed with the kids. Regardless, I don't think he's always wrong in his assessments: I know that my priorities are skewed sometimes. But figuring out how to live for myself and for others? Well, that's the hard part.