Years ago, when I was first starting my writing journey but long before I’d committed to it wholeheartedly, I read a quote that was something along the lines of:
Let the houseplants die. The kids and husband make their own meals. The laundry can pile up. All you must concentrate on is your writing. Everything else is superfluous.
(Of course, I can’t remember the exact quote or who said it!)
But the message was clear:
Nothing is more important than writing.
And it always sat… poorly with me. Because, well, living is important. Meals to be made and eaten. Bills to be paid. Laundry to be washed and dried (even if folding and hanging can be optional).
Even the poor houseplants deserve a quick watering now and then.
After all, how long does all that take?