When I write in French

...I tend to find myself inspired to write in English.  Unfortunately, I am also inspired to write in French, but I never feel like I can fully convey what it is I wish to say in English much less French so the process is much slower and exponentially more frustrating. 

I am counting down the days to the end of the semester eagerly and am now sitting at 12 days and counting.  I find it amusing that I've been wishing and striving to go to school for so long and now that I am 12 days away from the end of this semester, I realize how much I wish I was finished and moving on with more important things.  I feel like I've been in school for forever and now I am just hitting myself with very heavy, very expensive volumes of information and I am exhausted in an old feeble kind-of way.  Yes, I know how literary that sounded. 

I recently turned 29 (ancient, yes) and now that I have a daughter and I am attempting to write my novel, I am finding school more of an intrusion.  I look forward to next semester, however, and I am almost in longing for it.  I have signed up for Creative Writing and Introduction to Literature: Short Story and Novel.  You have no idea the joy this brings me.  Finally, I will feel like I am in my element.  Finally, I will exist alongside books and dust and prissy cats that live under the librarian's desk.  I will be able to read books (textbooks don't count for me anymore) and write about them.  Even more, I will be able to write creatively!  My heart leaps and dances with joy at this thought! 

So 12 days.  I can hold out right? I'm going through writer's withdrawals.  I find myself staying up later and later to research something, anything about my projects and I try to get something onto paper.  More often than not, I don't have time which is more than frustrating.  I cling to the thought that in less than 2 weeks I will have my mind back, my sanity back (someone stole that weeks ago), and my creativity time back.

I will also have my daughter to play with and enjoy.  She will be eight months in two days and I already feel as if I missed so much.  There are too many things in life to obstruct your view from what your heart desires.  We just have to keep working at it until our path is clear.  And this last part is fairly stubborn and mean. 

I promise I will blog more about books and writing when my thoughts are less obstructed.  Until, enjoy Santa's new ride.