Issue #239: The ‘Invisible’ Work That Only Happens Offline

Yay for growth!

It didn’t take much to convince me to go on a weeks-long trip to Canada. Within moments of my physical therapist’s offhand mention of his annual ski trip, which follows a loop that goes up into Banff and down through Vancouver, I had already booked two campsites. I have several long trips beginning in May, but one quick look at my calendar revealed that April was technically, blessedly free. The empty space, combined with my physical therapist’s greenlight to start skiing, felt like a sign.

I headed back home, thrilled by the prospect of another adventure, even as I settled back into the groove I had found that week: reliably working on my book each morning and establishing a work schedule that left weekends open (something I’ve long struggled to maintain). I envisioned myself fitting it all in—I would begin each morning writing my novel in the van at camp, take Toast for a brief hike, head to the mountain and ski for a few hours before lunch, then work on Morning Person, and drive to my next destination before nightfall. It was, in that fantasy, essentially a writing retreat, albeit with more skiing, driving, logistics, and a very needy dog.