Workaholism?

I am enjoying myself in the evenings at the moment; I’ve begun typing up one of my fairy tales, and when that is finished there’s another one ready to type up and a third on its way.  I have no idea what to do with them when they’re done, but I suppose I can always send them to friends to make them laugh...

The interesting thing about typing-up is that it is becoming rather a favourite activity of mine.  It is easier than original first draft writing and not as painful as revision (especially third or fourth revisions!).  But it’s still an essential element of writing anything; if it wasn’t written on a computer to begin with, it will have to be typed up at some point.  So it is both creative and relaxing. 

At the moment I’m getting home from work each night, cooking some supper, checking if there is anything I want to watch on television later, and then typing up until the start of the programme if so.  In theory after my dose of tv I then go to bed early – this was one of my resolutions for January – but in practice the siren call of typing is drowning the voice of common sense, and I am tending to go back to the laptop and get stuck in again.  Then the next thing I know it is nearly midnight, and my supposed early night is nothing of the sort.  Even then I have to make myself stop, for stopping doesn’t come easily – I want to be able to go on till silly o’clock. 

It’s something I’ve been aware of for a long time – as soon as I’m doing something I love, I can suddenly understand how people become workaholics.  Sitting in the office, at work, I find workaholism baffling; but once I am sitting at my own little computer at home, doing my own work, it makes perfect sense.  How could anyone not want to devote all their time to that which they love?