Weekend of insanity. Sons 1 & 3 opened in YOU'RE A GOOD MAN CHARLIE BROWN; son 2's team won an important football game; son 4 had a soccer game (not quite a win but a good show). Parents are visiting. Dog needs a trip to the vet (smells funny). Son 1's schedule also packed with college interviews which require that I IRON SHIRTS (gah!!!!). And everyone always wants to be fed--as if you needed food to LIVE. And...well, you get it. I'm not complaining. Except...
I find that grand inspirations strike me when I am
(a) Driving a kid to some field or stage and cannot take my hands off the wheel
(b) In the shower with a headfull of shampoo
(c) Racing out the door into a building where I must speak, share, or otherwise not write.
I know the old saw, "always carry a journal." And I DO. I also write on the edges of those little brown Starbucks "hot cup holder" thingies. And, if I am driving a kid, I dictate my idea and ask them to text it to me.
Still. I keep waking up thinking TODAY IS THE DAY I GET INTO MY FULL-FLEDGED SERIOUS FALL WRITING ROUTINE. Then, a few hours later, a little voice in my head whispers, "Well, maybe tomorrow."
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