How's that for a closing line of a poem?
I couldn't tell you what my muse looks like. I don't know where she is, what her real name is, or which axe she'll be grinding next.
All I know is I'm trying to put the kids to bed, mentally revise my schedule to accommodate more on my to-do list, and settle down for the day, and Lo and behold, guess who shows up.
At 10:30 pm, my kids room, they're still muttering and tossing, and Terpsichore's kid sister starts pouring her evening's grudge into my ear.
Forcing me (paperless and penless - AS USUAL) to memorize the damned thing for half an hour so I don't miss anything.
Finally, both babies are out (hold the comments on my lame-a$$ parenting 'till next time, pretty please? :-) cold, I bolt downstairs, answer one question for my hubby, plop down, and write for 3 pages and a bit. It's rough, someplace between a bit ironic and heavily devout, and inclusive of dremel tools, bacteria, octupi, and rust.
And tornados.
And it has one doozy of a last line.
And no, still not on track to make my goal this week for the short story. That will take an act of you-know-who.
sweet and muse-less dreams to you all ;-)
S.
I couldn't tell you what my muse looks like. I don't know where she is, what her real name is, or which axe she'll be grinding next.
All I know is I'm trying to put the kids to bed, mentally revise my schedule to accommodate more on my to-do list, and settle down for the day, and Lo and behold, guess who shows up.
At 10:30 pm, my kids room, they're still muttering and tossing, and Terpsichore's kid sister starts pouring her evening's grudge into my ear.
Forcing me (paperless and penless - AS USUAL) to memorize the damned thing for half an hour so I don't miss anything.
Finally, both babies are out (hold the comments on my lame-a$$ parenting 'till next time, pretty please? :-) cold, I bolt downstairs, answer one question for my hubby, plop down, and write for 3 pages and a bit. It's rough, someplace between a bit ironic and heavily devout, and inclusive of dremel tools, bacteria, octupi, and rust.
And tornados.
And it has one doozy of a last line.
And no, still not on track to make my goal this week for the short story. That will take an act of you-know-who.
sweet and muse-less dreams to you all ;-)
S.
