Okay, my plan from yesterday to spend all evening tonight writing was shot more or less to ribbons by the need to do housework, and the vagaries of parenting.
My wife was laid off a couple of months ago and decided to move laundry day from weekends (with me doing it) to Mondays (with her doing it), but she’s been swamped with kids stuff and medical appointments so I needed to take care of some of it or send my kids to school in long pants and long sleeves tomorrow when there’s an extreme heat and humidity warning in effect.
Also, my youngest son swung a door into his foot last week and did some serious damage to his big toe. We think he’s going to lose the nail, and because he’s six he keeps running around like a typical kid and re-injuring it. Tonight, it was while he was in the tub, so I needed to calm him down and drain the red water (which was not helping him in the freaking out department) and run him a new bath, then I bandaged it and got him into his pajamas. It would have been fine, except that while I had my back turned, my mother in law took off the bandage because he was complaining that his toe was hurting, and so we had to dress it again before tucking him back in. All told, it was past 9pm by the time he was in bed and that’s when I started doing and folding laundry.
So now it’s almost 11 and I haven’t written anything, but I aim to start now and see how much can manage in the hour, maybe two, before I fall asleep. I’m a little mentally drained to start writing, but that’s how it is. You sometimes wish that writing was easier than it is but if it was easy, then it wouldn’t be worth doing at all.
And so, back into the fray.