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Monday, August 02 2010

While writing this book, I've discovered a secret to meeting my daily word count. Finish writing as soon as possible in the morning because life tends to get in the way. I realize this isn't exactly a new discovery. Not by any means. But after last week, it's a good policy to follow.

Take Wednesday. I woke up at the usual time, booted up the computer, opened the garage door to let the cats in (why my cats sleep in the garage is a whole other story), and found a pile of vomit waiting for me. Wednesday was not the first time I'd been greeted in this fashion and it's really lost its sense of urgency. Truth be told, I didn't even bother to clean up the mess right then. I mean, technically, the garage floor is outside the house, so it's not like I had a bunch of throw up in the actual house. And maybe if the cats had to wander by their own vomit to get to the food bowl, they'd stop throwing up. Plus, I had a word count to reach.

So I went back upstairs. Shortly thereafter, Jake emerged from his room to inform me he'd peed in his bed. No problem. Throw the sheets in the wash, air out the room, and get back to writing. And write I did. At least until the baby started to cry when I had a mere eleven words to go before reaching my fifteen hundred words-a-day quota.

He was standing in the corner of the room near the dresser, and at first glance, everything looked fine. At least from across the room. But a closer look raised a question. What was all that brown stuff all over the baby? That's right. It was poo. Poo on the floor. Poo running down his legs. Poo on the dresser. Poo on his hands. Did I mention he was putting his fingers in his mouth?

I carted him off to the shower and hosed him down while he shrieked in accompaniment. Just as I toweled him off, the phone rang. My sister wanted to invite us for lunch in the park. Right then, the idea of fresh air and wide open spaces that didn't smell like poo sounded heavenly. But first, I had to squeeze in a quick trip to the store and still clean up the cat vomit. I had just enough time to unload the groceries, wash down the garage, and feed the baby before we had to head for the park. By the time we returned, it was early afternoon and I needed to complete all the chores I hadn't completed that morning.

But it didn't matter. I typed the last eleven words and ta-da! I'd hit my daily word count! After I'd finished my chores and washed the dinner dishes, I could throw myself into bed with a clear conscious. I needed a good night's rest to face whatever bodily fluids I'd have to clean up in the morning.

Posted by: Staci McLaughlin AT 12:34 pm   |  Permalink   |  0 Comments  |  Email

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