The day started fine. Well, sort of fine. I woke up to the sound of my oldest blowing his nose, coughing, and doing that disgusting throat clearing thing between pathetic moans. It continued with him convincing me he couldn’t go to school being deathly sick and with me sending him back to bed even as I attempted to rouse younger son who was just catching on that big brother was getting out of school.
It only went downhill from there.
As my younger son referred to it after school (it took me 30 minutes of unpleasant parent behavior to drag him into car and dropped off on schoolgrounds) I acted like a ‘crazy lady.’
Okay, fair enough. I was…crazed. And felt like hell after I drop-kicked him out of car onto school sidewalk, but younger son is soooo manipulating me right now that I can’t see straight. Every couple days he’s coming home early from school, or skipping school, and he’d just missed school Thursday, Friday and Monday with stomach aches that the doctor on Monday said seem to be pretty much invented to help him avoid doing things he didn’t like. Like school.
And as much as I want to spend quality time with my kids, it can’t happen between 8 am and 3 pm. That’s when I don’t want to think about kids, or mommyhood, or the fact that I’m painfully, excruciatingly impatient.
But with the Harlequin book in, the Flirting with Forty promo train chugging along (Maturity Today magazine said Flirting could be THE Baby Boomer anthem) and my research continuing for my next Warner book, Like Everybody Else, I really need some quiet time, some think time, some time without interruptions. Unfortunately I’m not getting that time and I’m just well…tense. And…crazy.
I don’t think my Outlook program helps. Email is clever and inventive but it doesn’t really help. Everytime I feel like I’ve gotten something done, another email or two pop into my inbox. And suddenly there’s another two or three or five things to do. Apparently Redbook Magazine wants me to write something just for them to include in the August excerpt/issue and I’m happy to. I just need the details. And my agent Karen Solem and I discussed the future and the publishing industry and what’s selling so here it is, get your pens poised:
1. erotica
2. paranormals
3. erotic romance
Good, Karen. I don’t really write any of the above. Feeling pretty glorious about the future.
And then while acting like I’m going to write, I answer about ten calls and I don’t even like the phone. Oh, and pay bills, lots of bills, and I like that even less.
Somehow, time magically passes and youngest son is home again and oldest son out of his room to do homework. While doing homework both sons complain about school and want to know why they had to go to school. I explain it’s their job. They then want to know why they had to have a job. And I said when they grew up they’d need jobs to eventually pay for their own place and be able to buy stuff.
This actually made sense to them.
Because after the day we’ve had, neither son wants to live forever with a crazy person.
They’ve promised to get places close.
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