All TroyBoys had clean pants to wear to school today, so there’s that.
There’s still 150 papers to grade. I need to go for a run, and I just remembered I forgot to pick up my contacts from the optometrist again. The produce from last week’s CSA box is still in the box in the garage, as is a pile of furniture and clothes for Vietnam Vets to pick up (once I call them. Why don’t they operate telepathically?) I haven’t made my bed in two months.
There’s never a good time to write. Maybe Sue Grafton and others who make a living from their words can write in normal working hours, but for the rest of us, it’s stealing time from our sleep or that afternoon we were supposed clean up the yard.
Never once when I sat down to write Lu did I say, “Now here’s a good time to write!”
And I didn’t today on Day 9 of NaNoWriMo. But I have three hours until school’s out, and the house is clean (thank you, Linda Sintz!). I built a fire. I poured wine. I opened my laptop to something I haven’t worked on for awhile (clue is in the picture) and I stole time.