It's Sunday and yesterday was disappointing, though not a complete bust. I wrote 792 words, give or take a 100 lost in revision work. I wanted 1,000 but kept letting myself get distracted. Totally my own fault. I own it.
After my Diet Dr. Pepper and snack, which turned out to be warmed up bratwurst and homemade stuffed cabbage (okay, it was more than a snack), I was seduced by episodes of Supernatural. Dean is such a scrumptious treat. Belly full of bratwurst and toes warm in my crocheted slipper socks, I succumbed to the power of The Nap. The Nap is a dangerous force in my household, sucking one in at the most inconvenient times. When The Nap release me, it was 6:30. I finished up my four hours of writing just in time to trek across town to pick up the teen. Or, these days, should I say The Teen. He's a force to be reckoned with himself.
While the hubby is busy watching the game and The Teen is off with the newest girlfriend, I'm fixing to hunker down and put in my second half of Write Your Ass Off time. I may have learned my lesson about committing to write on the weekend. I'll post how it goes later. I've got to work on a scene where my two main characters fall in love. Not as easy as one might think, avoiding all the cliches about love and such. What makes us fall in love anyway?
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