I am really, really frustrated.
I miss out on workshops, don't know squat about calls for submission of stories (the chances of my stuff actually getting published is another issue altogether), and I can't find the time to write. I go home tired and sleepy, and the last thing my brain needs is for me to kick it somemore after a whole day's work.
I told a friend a few months back that excepting those who're really good (and I obviously am not 'really good'), the only people who can afford to write are rich people. While they lie around and stare at the sky and jot down ideas and lines all day, the rest of us are busy trying to make a living.
Life is so bloody unfair.