(“weeds” from the not-yet-tilled garden)
She wrote it on the back–66.11.
That’s how much I had left on my Barnes & Noble gift card (one of them, anyway) after I bought a tomato caprese sandwich and a glass of iced green tea.
My son keeps me well stocked with B&N gift cards.
I stopped in to grab a Macs for Dummies book, but they didn’t have one.
And my stomach growled loud enough to be heard way down at Macy’s.
So, of course, I had to eat.
Then I made the mistake of wandering the aisles.
And I bought these.
Because, I rationalized, maybe one of them would help me along here. I really hoped to have something to take to the ACFW Conference (if I get to go), but I’m not progressing as fast as I hoped.
Never mind that I already have this.
And shelves full of other books without these promises.
But then I found this. It was on my wish list.
And then this to replace the old beaten up one.
And I got this for a friend.
And thought the grandgirl might like these.
That probably took up a couple hours of writing time.
This morning I visited Linda’s blog.
Her May goals shamed me.
I could probably spend a couple more hours of writing time writing some goals.
But I had to run into Speedway where I witnessed a big old car smash into the water display right in front of the store, just as I walked in the door. Took a bit of the Jet’s Pizza girl’s car for a ride, too.
It’ll probably take another couple hours of writing time to calm down.
And then another hour on the treadmill to wear off the Krispy Kreme doughnut that the excitement forced me to buy–and eat.
And then there’s the matter of all these books.
And the books in my towering to-read pile
Of which lately I don’t seem to finish any.
Just a chapter here and a chapter there.
Part of the reason I’m not further along in my writing is because the grandbaby has taken up residence in her Pack-n-Play in my office.
I can blame her.
Or I can just blame myself.
And wallow in my ashes.
That could take up a few more hours.
I could talk to God about whether he really has called me to write fiction.
That would use up even more time.
Or I could just get to work.
Am (not) writing,