I am a bath person. Not for getting clean, I definitely prefer showers for that. But for relaxing and what I consider, "washing off the day".
Tonight, my bath became a metaphor for my career.
I like what my husband calls, "Lobster Baths". Just enough cold water to keep your skin from actually scalding. Tonight I got distracted while the tub was filling. My bath turned out a step above luke warm.
But I got in anyway. I tried to soak and relax. It wasn't uncomfortable. There were plenty of bubbles. My children were occupied. No one bothered me, but I realized it wasn't what I wanted. I stayed in because I was already there. Not because I was enjoying it.
I considered emptying it and starting over, but I knew there would not be enough hot water this time. I worry about that with writing. When I started my current career, I was young, single and full of energy. Not to mention set on changing the world. I am not that person anymore. I am far from old, but I am settled, married and a mom. I have seen the world for what it is and know I am far from its savior. I worry I will run out of talent, energy, determination and everything I else I need.
Just like the hot water.