I love my family

I love my family, I love my family, I love my family ...

Sometimes you have to remind yourself of these things after a particularly traumatic getting for school morning. John insists Fiona is never as terrible as she is on the days I am home for the morning departure. Somehow this doesn't make me feel any better!

Twiddling my thumbs

I got the horror story wrapped up and sent out for submission, and now I'm sort of floating around on a happy high and not quite willing to get back the plain drudgery of editing Bk #1.

Honestly, after the simple joy of creating a short story, I kind of want to punch all the novels in their printy little faces and stuff them in a drawer somewhere. I feel like not a single one will ever be worth handing over to another human being to read. And that's terrible, because 2 out of 3 have already been read by other humans, much to the anguish of said humans.

So now I'm stalling. Stalling and surfing the internet. God I love the Internet!

Silence settles over the duplex

I love my family, but THANK GOD I usually leave the house before they do. The last fifteen minutes of getting-ready-to-go-to-school was like cacophonous torture. How can one little girl carp, cavil, whine and complain so much?

Not to mention the stomping and door slamming. They're just galoshes, but you'd think they were red-hot iron slippers the way she was complaining.

Ahhh, peace. I'm enjoying it now. But in ten minutes, I have to get ready for my consult with the oral surgeon.

Some days I love my job

Like yesterday, when a kiddo got shut in a locker and the locker jammed. Is there anything out there better than saving small children?

I don't think so!