The husband is safely upstairs. The three year old is napping.
*looks left, then right, ignores the growing pile of laundry and bills and spies the WIP*
Is it possible I may actually get to write for a little while?
No, says the non-writing part of the mind. Why start now? You need your rest. You deserve your rest. Oh look, the mail just came. It’s the RWR. Maybe I should read it immediately.
Writing part of mind says sternly: Open Word Doc and pull up WIP.
Do I smell popcorn?
I actually have 147 pages, not 145. I’m two pages closer to finishing.
The husband has now coughed all over the popcorn. My appetite is gone. Oh look, cookies…
Ah, margins were screwed up. I actually only have 145 pages.
I really want that BlogAmp thing Emma has on her blog. Contact her immediately.
But maybe, just maybe, if I can actually get Sin and Tori into the sack today…