Well, I've spent the morning doing copious housework tasks: vacuuming, washing the bedding, cleaning the cooker, putting papers away (some of them: the imminent crashing to the floor of the academic book pile meant that some of them are waiting until I can balance the books -ha ha!- in a less precarious manner). In between, I'm booking guest lecturers for my classes, preparing teaching materials, and writing an academic article.
The bits of the day where I get to do music, those are my favourite bits. Lots of my artist friends seem to be acquiring studios, and it seems like such a wonderful thing to do. In my imagination, I've got a big airy studio with white walls and space to not only have all my guitars out and smiling at me (they do!) but also art materials lying about waiting for ideas.
At least I can find corners in my house to do these things, and snippets of time. My Spanish guitar travels from room to room with me, and is picked up as I wait for slow internet connections to come through.
It has always been like this.
I used to cook spaghetti for my kids with the Green Goddess guitar slung over my shoulder as I stirred the pans, and wrote songs while I was slaving over a hot stove. Most of my PhD was done in between dropping Offspring Two off at primary school and leaving for work in the mornings, with an hour on Fridays while the double edition of The Simpsons was on TV.
I wonder what it would have been like if I'd been able to do what I wanted all my life? Not many people get to do that, do they?
I would probably have been absolutely miserable.