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I had just hit send on an email to a friend lamenting that my summer had gotten out of control and I hadn’t met my writing goals. I half-heartedly recommitted to them for August but noted that I was starting a tight turn around project next week and right after that wrapped up we had a week of vacation.

This Anne Lamott article about finding time popped up in feed.

Am I really that busy? And I want to say yes. I want to tell her that while I don’t go to the gym, I do run, but it has nothing to do with jiggly thighs or a big butt. I want to tell her my house is such a mess I can’t think straight, so clearly that’s not my problem. I want to tell her that I crave that half hour of quiet time for myself (it’s one of the reasons I run), but that it’s hard with two little kids who have their own schedules and noise and needs.

All those things are true—and I spend too much time on Facebook. I don’t engage in writing or anything I really want to pay attention to right after bedtime because the girls are up and down needing the potty or having to tell me something. And somewhere in that post–lights out time, they settle and I’m still waiting, still fiddling away my time.

Last night, the article, my own email conversation on my mind, I closed out my browser and turned off email and after a final “goodnight,” I started writing. I sat for an hour with my own thoughts and words. I need to do this more often. Even when I’m tired.

I had long ruled out after bedtime as a time to get things done, but what if I don’t think of it as getting my writing done. What if I think of it as claiming my quiet time for me? I had my quiet time this morning, a long run on a glorious summer day, but I might get greedy and take a half an hour of quiet, focused time tonight too.

What would you do with a quiet half hour? What’s getting in the way of finding that time?