As I grow older, I’m realising the importance of hobbies. I just read this article about woman whose therapist scolded her for not setting aside any relaxation time for herself, so she took up sewing, with mixed results.
If I had a therapist (Which I probably should, to be honest) he or she would probably have said the same thing to me. For years my time spent away from work consisted of watching TV, wandering around shops and eating.
I mean, that’s not to say I haven’t tried. This year I wrote a novel. A whole book – over 70 thousand words – from start to finish in around four months. I edited three drafts. It’s terrible. Like, plot-holes-so-big-they-could-swallow-the-solar-system terrible. I even sent it to some agents, with (unsurprisingly) no success. That’s when I gave up. Well, got bored I suppose. It’s still there, printed out on thousands of sheets of paper in a nice ring binder under my coffee table, waiting for that one last attempt to make it brilliant. One for my new year’s resolutions list, perhaps?
My problem was that I just couldn’t get away from the mindset that I need to be the best at something, or make some money out of it, otherwise what’s the point? I don’t know where this bizarre thought process came from, but it sucks, and I’m slowly learning to discard it. (more…)