Rare days: alone in the house on a spring afternoon. The problem with having spare time to write is that writing is all I do. Do I really consider this a problem? Does it matter what I write here? Cohost has that LJ feel.
My hours are so limited that I'm frequently amazed at how content I manage to feel. Every hour must be deliberately carved out for its best purpose. If I'm to sit on the porch and write, I do so with all my might. But most of my thoughts will be about work or motherhood, the freshest topics in my mind.
It was a great work day. PT2 is in such beautiful shape that I've actually crested the hill of "never be done" despair, and am able to compartmentalize its needs. Right now the artwork is doing its job well enough. I need the game to be as written as possible. All else is a distraction.
There is something freeing about letting the other work go. I can occasionally pretend those things are not my job. Writing and drawing and coding at the same time is exhausting, stifling - impossible to see progress. I expect when I'm fully sick of this story and ready to draw and code again, these pieces will fall into place quickly.
This is the sort of optimism I eventually found with PT1. I'm finally there again. Games are finished eventually, if we want them to be. And I WANT.