My new job is killing my ability to write. There I said it.

Here I am at the great devide that all artists find themselves: The quest for creative freedom vs. the need for monetary fulfillment. I need to eat. I need shelter. To get these things I need money. The question is have I sacrificed to much? Has my balance been skewed? Shifted from a focus on my writing to one on a carrier in which the only true reward I receive is a bi-weekly paycheck.

What to do?

I know I need the money, that’s a given, and I know I need to write more, but how to make the two mesh better? It seems that whenever I have time off, I am so damned exhausted from my current job that I can’t seem to muster up the energy to write. Days are wasting away. Soon I will be 27 years old, and I have yet to achieve any kind of real success at doing something I want to do, instead of something I have to.

One thing is for sure, I have always been a creative person. It is a part of me that I can not get rid of. There is no job out there that will kill that desire, but the one I have certainly is trying its best.