I have too much going on with my new schedule, that includes a new part-time job, to expect much spare time, much less for blog posts. But given the fact that I spent almost a year turning on the writer in me, it'd be too much to expect that I could just turn that part of me off. When I sit in the armchair in my daughter's room, as I do twice a day for half an hour while I put her down to nap or to bed, the day's events and the context they occur in, interactions I've had, and observations I've made seem to spiral in and out until they start to connect and maybe even make sense or seem like less of a blur. Fairly regularly, I get these things I call "inspirations." Things I'd like to write about, if only I had time. But lately I don't. The regular litany of crazy things that happen here in Mexico haven't stopped happening, I just haven't had enough time to write about them. I've complained about this to several people, and everyone recommends jotting things down or recording them. Maybe if I could get over not being able to let my ideas take me where they want, and realize that this is just a temporary sacrifice of time, I could accept the idea of trying out a new memory device. But I know myself better. I am worried that I'll never get that luxury of time to write in any significant amount back, and I know how many thousands of sheets of paper of interesting things I've simply filed away to be used at a later time. They're called file folders and bookshelves. No, I became addicted to pursuing creative energy, and I am going through withdrawal. But like any labor of love, i.e. I have gone through childbirth and am parenting as I type, I also know that temporary sacrifices are required in order to get to the next stage of things. I told this to a friend who just found out she's pregnant and is worried about how things will go, at every step of the way. I said that even though pregnancy may at times feel unbearably difficult, every trial is a preparation for something bigger that's up ahead as a parent. I was either lying through my teeth or I don't like to take my own advice, especially when it applies to the rest of my life. I suspect it's the latter.