It happened that Necco’s skills reached her peak just as my life reached a low point. My twenty-year marriage had shuddered to a stop, leaving me with a ten-year-old daughter, Katie, and a large home to support on an advertising copywriter’s salary. A1though I worked full-time, the pay was modest and I often found myself with more bills than paycheck. I soon realized I would have to work as a freelance writer just to meet expenses.
That meant getting up at 4:00 A. M., writing for two hours, and then getting ready for work. Eight hours later, I would return home, fix dinner, help Katie with homework, clean the house and get ready for another days work. I fell into bed exhausted at 11:00 P.M. only to crawl out of bed when the alarm sounded at 4:00 A.M. the next day.
The routine lasted exactly two weeks. Despite gallons of coffee, I couldn’t seem to produce anything. I was cranky, frustrated, lonely and ready to admit defeat. Writing was hard. Paying bills was even harder. The only answer was to sell the house and get an inexpensive apartment. Unfortunately, that would mean more losses for Katie and me. Especially since no apartment in town allowed pets.
I hated the thought of finding another home for us all, and I especially hated the thought of telling Katie about the changes in store. Depressed, I slept through the 4:00 A.M. alarm the next day. And the next and the next. Finally, I quit setting it.