I escaped to my doggie niece and nephew’s house today. And I’m going to do it again in a little while.
My friend down the way and her family live with my boy dog’s brother, who has a ‘sister’ as well.
See, doggie niece and nephew. Or nephew and niece, since I knew him first. And she’s not blood to either of my monsters. But still, she is sweet and she is my nephew’s sister because adoption counts too.
But as usual, I digress.
I put the quill to papyrus for a few furtive moments this morning. The story is there, just at the edge of my vision. I urge myself to just spit it out onto the page, but despite the quickness of my fingers it comes no more swiftly. I get a few paragraphs down and Madam Muse told me to stop.
I don’t know how many words this month will birth but I suspect it may be fewer than I would like.
Or maybe more.
Who can tell? Birth is such a mysterious thing.
I thought I might get brought up on charges today.
Before you panic, wait:
I didn’t clean the kitchen yesterday and if it had been able, it would have called the authorities, I am sure. However, disaster of such epic proportions was averted because I took care of it earlier this afternoon. Now, the rugs and kitchen floor are eyeing me suspiciously, as if they already know my plan to dash out the door and down the block to play.
If I don’t take care of them before I go, dinner will be delayed even more.
My stomach doesn’t like the sound of that.
Sometimes, writing is an uphill battle, but in the end, it’s okay.
Are you doing any of the NaNo’s this year? It’s only day three but how goes it?