In case you missed it, to recap, I’m addicted to writing. Last night I suffered from a bout of insomnia that went well into the wee hours of the morning so, of course, I wrote as much as I could. I made little notes to myself about my book, etc. I did a couple of journal entries and I replied to way too many emails.

I became concerned when my husband assumed I’d miss our anniversary before I’d miss the last of my fantastic Freelancing for Newspapers and Magazines class with Marci Abohler. He swears that he was just concerned that I’d already paid for the class. I thought perhaps it was about how I keep putting writing first in a way that consumes my sleepless hours and sometimes even my dreams.

The real test was that one of my favorite editors would be visiting my last writing class as a guest panelist. I’m on a mission to get a piece into the magazine that she works for. I’ve spent hundreds of dollars just to take classes with her because I think she’s that good. So could I just totally bail on my class? Even if it meant that I would be bailing on my husband?

In the end, I ended up attending the class for an hour and then rushing like a madwoman to my dinner date with the husband. In the restaurant, I was jittery. Had I made the right choice? I felt so guilty about this thought that I had a mini meal and I let my husband have steak. He smiled. I think I did the right thing.