A busy, busy day in Writing Land... a fun-house packed with mind-bending vertigo, little adulation and gallons of made coffee gone cold...
It's an exclusive group. Your hair must be tangled, your eyes must be blood shot, and you must have a penchant for chewing coffee beans over filtering them for that instant injection high that'll have you crashing down to earth at the end of your slave labour day.
I could tell you I had time this morning to shower and get properly dressed, but who's kidding who?
Posts needed writing.
Blogs needed tweaking.
Books needed editing.
And don't forget my sideline job of Cat Concierge and Feline Hotel Doorman...
I'd like to tell you that by 4pm, I've plunked 1000 words down on my new WIPs, but who's kidding who? The mere fact I've arranged for a delivered dinner shows I'm not allowed to leave this keyboard for another 4 gazillion hours... or whenever I fall out of my desk chair and become a wet spot on the floor of life.
Yes, I'll eventually take that shower. Keeping soap out of my eyes will be a cinch, as I'm certain my eyelids will be closed. I wonder if you can drown in a shower if you snore? I'm sure I'll find out.
Yes, I'll get everything done on my To-Do list today, and none of it will make me a celebrated millionaire, but at least I won't have to fend off the paparazzi. There's always an upside.
And yes, my scrunched-up forehead and chiseled worry lines the depths of the Grand Canyon will iron out by day's end, and I won't have a care in the world... in some other southern belle beauty queen's world, I mean. It's not that I was meant to look feral while writing; it's just the way things are for we "Suffering Irish."
Yes, a busy, busy day in Writing Land... please tell me when the haren-scarem rollercoaster comes to a stop, so I can privately hurl chunks behind a bush. Thank you. :-I