Eight hours, five thousand words

funny pictures of cats with captions
I dropped Janie off at school, got Rocinante’s oil changed and his tires rotated,* and had my rear in the writing chair by 9:10.**

My  husband—who wasn’t wearing my favorite headphones and could therefore  hear my stomach complaining from across the room—made me break for lunch around noon-thirty.***  Checked my e-mail and feeds.

Got back in the saddle around one.

My husband left to pick up the kids around three.  I think.^  He came back with them—and an oven-bake pizza, making him my official hero^^—about four-thirty.

Took a  break—dinner, joined Facebook,^^^ kidstuff, tv, bedtime rituals—and went back to the chair until . . . now.

What time is it, anyway?  I’ve got work tomorrow.

My shoulders hurt, my bottom hurts, my eyes are burning, and my brain is full of fuzz and stray bees.

But y’all, I wrote some today.


*I didn’t get his cracked windshield replaced, but did receive an estimate that didn’t cause an immediate stroke, so I’m still ahead of the game.

**After paying the car place, I figured the best place to write would be home, as it’s  inexpensive (or pre-paid, anyway) and I don’t have to pack everything up to visit the restroom.  The hot and cold running caffeine ran out waaaay too early, though.  I complained to the management, told myself to stuff it if I didn’t like the choices, and slunk back to work.

***Lured by a two-liter of diet Pepsi.  Damn, I’m easy.

^ He did, at one point, venture into my peripheral vision to glance at the screen.  I slid off my headphones.  “Yes?”
“Just wanted to see what you were giggling about.  Thought it was a video, but you’re writing.”
“I was giggling?”
“Yeah.  You were.”
“Oh.”  I turned the music down a notch, slid my headphones back on, and kept going.

^^Damn, I am easy.

^^^Yeah . . . but only to play Words with Friends.  Really.


16 thoughts on “Eight hours, five thousand words

  1. Okay, this is how every one of my days should go. Except I could stop 3ish to make some dinner for Sophie who is STARVING when she gets off the bus at 3:45. And then after all that writing, I could do the housework, the goofing around on the computer, etc.

    I seriously need someone to stand over me and beat me with a ruler if I don’t write.

    Congratulations on all those words written!

    • I want all my days to be like this, but I’m too attached to our health insurance. And the house . . .

      I can nag you electronically, if you like.

      And thanks. I think my brain is empty.

  2. I’ve been thinking about you since Friday when I first heard about your plans, imagining you holed up in the corner of some remote place, writing feverishly and not once checking your watch. I’m so glad you followed through. You definitely are an inspiration.

  3. 5000 words, fantastic!
    I know you and I are in similar boats. Isn’t it so refreshing to have a chunk of time and get so much accomplished?
    It makes such a difference to be able to follow a thought through without the demands of the family in the background (even when the kids aren’t actively demanding, mine are incessantly needing me to “watch this!” “you’re not looking!” “look, mommy, look!”. I adore them, but darned if I’ll ever finish.
    A big hunk-o-time, perfect.

    • It was an unexpected day off for working an ‘extra’ Saturday—not really extra, I switched Saturdays with someone so I could be home for Janie’s birthday earlier this month—and for once (barring Rosinante’s check-up) I hadn’t filled the preceding Friday with appointments. “Cause I sort of forgot . . .

      But I’m so going to do this again!

  4. Fitting in the writing each day–always the #1 challenge. Priorities, priorities.

    I finished my latest (please, please, let it be the last) draft of my novel Saturday night. The house is a mess, my day job surely suffered, and I wore dirty clothes for three days straight.

    But the rewrite is done.

    Good for you, my friend. Keep working. Keep stepping forward. Keep passing the open window.

    • Congratulations, Sherry!

      I figure I can be a housekeeper or a writer, but not both, or at least not well. I’m thinking of taking a week off to write . . . maybe later this summer.

      I’ll keep on keeping on, trying to grow! 🙂

  5. I always try to talk myself into taking the “prepaid” home writing option instead of a cafe. The funny thing about this “free” option is that I end up washing dishes or petting the cats or falling asleep instead of writing. The three bucks or whatever are worth it for an incentive to make myself get to work. Also, then I am forced to engage in “human interaction” — at least long enough to order my drink. Which sometimes is more than enough for me.

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