Monsoon Skies & Midnight Deadlines

 

Last night, I stepped outside just as the clouds finally broke. The air smelled like wet earth and creosote, and for the first time in months, the Arizona heat felt almost forgiving. We’ve had two nights of monsoon rain now, and I swear, it’s the only thing keeping me from melting into a puddle.

I should have been in bed. But it was one of those moments where you stand there barefoot on the patio, thinking about everything all at once — bills stacked on the kitchen counter, deadlines stacked even higher, and the little voice in the back of your mind that says, You’re running out of time.

I’m on day twelve straight at my corporate job. Salary pay means there’s no overtime — just more hours and the hope you can breathe on the weekends. Except there hasn’t been a real weekend in… months? Years? Somewhere in there.

Two adult kids live with me. My daughter turns 25 on September 3, which blows my mind because it feels like she was just learning to ride her bike. She’s raising her two little ones under my roof — a curious, wide-eyed six-year-old who asks big questions about the world, and a one-year-old who seems to believe sleep is a negotiable concept. My son, that also lies here, is 21, protective of me in ways I never expected, and just as stubborn as I am.

We’re a full house. And I love them. But it’s a lot.

Some nights, after everyone’s finally quiet, I sit down with my laptop and stare at this pile of stories I wrote years ago. Ones I never thought I’d publish because… well, life. Now I can’t stop thinking, Why not? Why not push as hard as I can, even at 51, to make something bigger for myself? To maybe, one day, step away from the grind and move off-grid again, where mornings start with the sound of wind through the trees and a rooster crowing instead of the buzz of emails and calendar alerts.

That’s why I’m running so hard right now. Why I’m sharing my journey on TikTok (https://www.tiktok.com/@whiskeyandwool?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc)  with “1000 Days to the Cabin,” even though I don’t make a dime from it yet. Why I’m doing everything I can to get these books — all fifty-two of them — out into the world next year. Because if I don’t try now, when will I? And maybe ... just maybe, it will help make ends meet. Late fees are a constant here - a constant, I can't afford.

If you’re reading this, you’re part of that journey. And I hope in some way, my stubborn hope makes you want to chase your own big, impossible dream — no matter how hot it gets, no matter how tired you are, no matter how old you are, no matter how far away it seems.

For now, I’ll take the sound of rain on the roof, a fresh cup of coffee, and one more night of believing it’s still possible.