This week six very smart and lovely women came to my house. We were on a mission, aside from eating rare fresh jackfruit, fun cheeses and dark chocolate. It was an inaugural meeting of a new club of sorts. We will meet once a month and have online time during the week to support each other and provide resources and networking. We’re all women entrepreneurs, each in a vastly different business but each also with a thread of a connection to each other: One person needs an intern, the other looking for time to fill until she figures out her business. A gallery owner and an art historian. One with a busy B-level career on her way to an A, and people with A-level jobs who can help her perhaps. And there was me, trying to figure out how do I get everything done for the 40licious book I am writing, outside of my full-time day job. Lots of good suggestions — write at lunch. Write in the morning. Take your space. Carve your time.
I am tired at the end of the day. I want to walk the dogs, watch Mad Men on Netflix and eat Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia Frozen Yogurt. I want to like things on Facebook and read the work of others — who had to carve their own time to write it.
How bad do I want it? I want it bad enough to get up at 5 a.m. every day, I guess.