Daily Stats:
Words: no words, just long, heavy sighs
Caffeine: morning cup + midday iced mocha
Evil Calories: have successfully perfected my cinnamon roll recipe. Have also perfected my fat-assness in the process. Woot.
I know, I know, I've been away for a while. Don't act like you didn't miss me. Admit it, you've been checking daily to see if I've returned to regularly scheduled snarkiness. Well, here I am. I wish I was popping in to report utter fabulousness, but alas, I'm really just here to mope and feel sorry for myself, something I don't normally practice or condone. However, life has been serving up some serious sucker punches lately, and, well, I'm not made of wood, you know.
To sum up without boring you or making you outclick before I finish - a) hubby's company went under, so we're currently unemployed b) house is falling apart, kitchen smells like moldy bottoms mixed with tangy socks and basement keeps flooding and c) they stopped making my favorite flavor of Triscuits. These are the dark times, people.
So, needless to say, I haven't really been in the mood to write as much as I've been in the mood to freak out and panic. It's really hard to do both. But, in the moments where I sit down with a nice glass of Rose' (my new favorite summer beverage) and chill the hell out, I have contributed quality material to my WIP. I keep having this vision that the moment the bank comes to take away our house keys, I'll get "the call" from an agent, kind of like that movie The Prize Winner of Defiance Ohio where she wins the jingle contest right when the family is about to lost the house and disband.
Of course, that means I actually have a) finish and b) query it around, which sounds like a lot of work. With all this panicking and freaking out, my plate is pretty full.
5 comments:
Oy vey. I have no magic words to take the suckiness away, but I do have a heart that sends you positive vibes and hopes for brighter days ahead.
Hugs.
Oh, I do hope the fates of goodwill blow your way soon.
Keep your head up.
Doesn't it all make you want to write harder? You know -- write your way out of it?
I hate and love these time in life. You're morphing, but you're in that awkward stage where people are whispering about what a cute kid you used to be, you get your clumsiness from your father and they hope you grow out of the teeth, nose and ears.
Anybody who is anybody has been at zero more that twice.
I'm at zero....I ain't skerd. Zero is the new cool. Zero is so right now. Let's drink to our sassy zeroness.
:)
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