Back to the grind, I say. Time to write that novel and update those blogs and shoot an article or two off to a magazine. And I'm ready. The Easter migraine has passed (another blog for another day-- it wasn't pretty, friends--complete with drooling, crying, and narcotic-induced candy binges) and it's time to get to work. I got up, I put on my writer's jeans (What? I write in jeans that aren't too tight to sit comfortably for hours and hours but aren't so loose that I look icky. Writer's jeans. Note to self: patent this idea) and I gathered my writer's things. Macbook, notes, bag, legal pads, folder of great ideas, paper clips (I have a weird addiction), phone, chargers. Also, bills that I need to pay, on my break from all of the writing, of course.Once the kids are off to school, I hop in my car and head for the library.
Crap. I forgot to eat breakfast and I have no highlighters.
I love Drug Mart. Breakfast and pens in one place. I find Special K Protein Bars, a bottle of Vitamin Water, pink and yellow highlighters, new pens, some Post-It flags, and some Shout, which I need for Jono's baseball pants, so this is just a lovely time-saving bonus. Back in the van, I re-load my writing bag, organize it, trash all of my old yucky stuff, put my nice new pens inside, and get myself all set. For the writing. So I should probably leave the Drug Mart parking lot. After I throw all of this trash away. I get back out of my van, quickly clean my whole car out with a baby wipe and a Drug Mart bag and go to the library.
Which is where I am now. Kind of, because I don't like the really quiet part of the library. I like the cafe part.
Two trips to the bathroom, one to the magazine rack for "Writer's Digest" and "The Writer" and only one quick visit to Facebook, paid my AT&T bill, cleaned out my wallet, and now you can OBVIOUSLY see that I'm writing. Or what would you be reading?
So it's a start. Back on the horse, if you will.
And I'm riding this horse in my writer's jeans. Looking good. . . .
Which is where I am now. Kind of, because I don't like the really quiet part of the library. I like the cafe part.
Two trips to the bathroom, one to the magazine rack for "Writer's Digest" and "The Writer" and only one quick visit to Facebook, paid my AT&T bill, cleaned out my wallet, and now you can OBVIOUSLY see that I'm writing. Or what would you be reading?
So it's a start. Back on the horse, if you will.
And I'm riding this horse in my writer's jeans. Looking good. . . .
