I’m dashing out the door to work at Field Day at my daughter’s school. My butt needs to be planted in this chair since I’m so behind schedule that I could cry…except crying isn’t going to do any good. Not sure how this happens. I’m not out having a good time or doing things I shouldn’t. For the most part, I’m here at my desk. But then a little story/writing block slaps me up side the head. I was LOVING this book. Having a good time writing it. It was going well and then screech the brakes jammed on. The longer I’m blocked, the more frantic I get because I see myself slipping further behind and even when I’m sitting at Mother’s Day brunch with my family it’s weighing on the back of my mind and…well, it’s not a pretty mental state.:[ Yesterday, however, I think I wrote a scene that broke through the block. I certainly hope so.
But I’m going to work at Field Day today because it’s my daughter’s last year at elementary school. And next week I’ll go to Lunch on the Lawn and Honor’s Day and the Fifth Grade Picnic and I’ll be there for their final walk through the halls and then we’ll have an after school party and I’m going to try very hard not to hyperventilate in the interim.
