In an ideal world I would earn a living as a writer. The morning alarm wouldnt sound until ten am, and I would live in a Beach house in Montego bay over looking the ocean. I would live on a diet of freshly caught fish prepared by the worlds finest chefs, and swim in the ocean every day.
On an evening my wife and I would stroll on golden sands and watch the sun set over the sea. I would own my own catamoran, and we would sail around the world taking in the sights.My art work and photography would be in countless exhibitions, my novel a best seller, perhaps even spawning a movie, my songs at number one in the pop charts.
in an ideal world life would be fantastic...
In reality I have to wake every day to the six am alarm, crawl out of bed and feed the cats, a quick slice of toast, make my packed lunch, usually cheese sandwiches and then rush through the rain for the bus which is usualy full meaning i have to stand, and be caughed on by hundreds of strangers. I will spend twenty minutes stuck in traffic, be late for work and have to work through my break to make the time up. I spend the day making fake smiles to irate, stroppy customers, being forced to bite my tongue. 
I will spend my lunch hour writing my novel that probably no body but me is ever going to read. At the end of the day I rush to the supermarket, then go for the bus laden with bags only to have to stand up again, and once again stuck in traffic for twenty minutes, finally geting home at six thirty. A quick tea, then fall asleep in front of Eastenders on TV.
Yea, in an ideal world......
Pompadour
Good luck with the writing. And, at least you are doing it which is something in intself.