The kids are on spring break this week. I was going to let them play outside every day while I wrote, and wrote, and WROTE, and finally made more than crawling progress on Magic in Disguise. I was going to serve the easiest possible meals, and forget about housework, and be antisocial. Carl is working on his final papers for the semester, so we could have been hermit writers together.
It’s Thursday. I have not written ONE WORD in the MS all week.
Sigh. And Alas.
But on Monday we did get to do this, so it’s not all bad.
Just, you know, not productive.
And now I’d better get back to all the chores that are calling my name and, inexplicably, must be taken care of instead of writing. Why DO dishes need to get washed and laundry done so frequently, anyway?
(Carl, needless to say, is almost finished with HIS paper.)
Every day this week I promised myself to start writing right after breakfast, and every day it’s at least noon before I do
And then, yeah, laundry and dinner and… Sigh.