Time to write

I need to get back to writing.
Seriously, I do.
I closed my notebook at the end of July, with a story on the way, another two close to be completed, and one half set in my mind.
I must go back to writing.
It isn't very important, but for my mental health it's vital. It makes me feel good, alive. It's my therapy.
Virginia Woolf wrote "there is an immense pleasure in writing, even only in trying to write". Or close to this (I have the quote in Italian).
My notebook is calling for me on my desk, and so are all the words trapped in my head.
Outside it's raining, and I have set a plan for the months to come which include some serious writing, if only to spend a few hours of my weekend in a productive way, rather than running two hours and collapsing on the armchair with a book. It is also important to make me think of something else, focusing on what I want to say, have my feelings and thoughts converge and lose weight when they are transferred on paper. I always feel relieved after a good writing session.
I know that plan won't last, though.
It's raining harder.
Stephen King wrote that if one wants to be a serious writer, one must write every single day, no excuses. It makes me furious to think that somebody with such a practical sense like he seems to be should write such nonsense.
There is no spare time. Not every day.
There is an eight-hour job, with one and a half lunch break when I must tidy the kitchen from breakfast, prepare lunch, eat, tidy again; there is a workout I need to do to keep my blood running and de-stress after the 8 hours on a job I don't like. There is always a book I must finish; there is some friend, luckily, who calls me, or whom I have to meet, if only for a quick drink and an intelligent chat (rather than the casual, repetitive, useless daily nonsense I hear at home...); there are rehearsals, and chores, and a good movie to watch, every now and then, because I like cinema and it helps me getting away from this dimension. A serious plan must include all this, plus the intention of finding a better job, i.e. studying, i.e. even less time than before.
But, like Zeno, next week will see me start and stick to a running-reading-writing routine.
Oh God.
More cramps.
In two hours I'll be at the gym, with dilated pupils after being at the optometrist: they say that one of the first signs of attraction for someone is the dilation of the pupils at the sight of the "object of desire": well, I think I will be giving a pretty clear sign tonight...