NOT Even Vlose...I mean Close.

Today I had a plan. Get through the work day. Make it home in one piece then write away the evening. Horns blared around me as I was caught daydreaming at traffic lights about all the changes I'd be making. My WIP would undoubtedly be a brand new version of delight after tonight's progress. I even stopped at Starbucks on the way home and picked up a skinny Vanilla Latte. Yes. I. Did.

THEN- I got the call that we were out of Boars Head deli meat for sandwiches. That cannot happen under any circumstance in my house, so I stopped off at the grocery store, but not before returning one cell phone back to the cell phone provider that decided to send my daughter a new replacement phone complete with what appeared to be gum on the dial pad. Nice. Even the manager was amazed.

THEN- I watched as my daughter went on an all out rant in the kitchen (my office happens to be the kitchen table) because her father or "my husband" she seethed, ate all the lasagna and I should do something about him. Her day has been "ruined." THEN- I watched silently with both hands poised on the keypad, ready for action as she proceeded to eat what was supposed to be tomorrows dinner. I think I recall her mumbling something about showing "that man" a thing or two but I can't be sure.

THEN- I got the opportunity to sign excuses for my lovelies to be exempt from exams because their grades have been so good they don't have to take them. After that, I saved a pair of socks from the jaws of one Great Dane who had raided the laundry room then sighed a breath of relief as the kitchen emptied of bodies  and I began typing that first word. Sweet bliss.

BUT THEN- a cry was heard from the back yard. One daughter was yelling for help. Potential writer (me) leapt into action. The scene in the back yard was of one daughter being chased in a circle by our dog (same Great Dane who happens to love socks). It was clear he was in distress. Closer inspection revealed he had an obstruction of sorts. Further examination lead to one writer assisting in the delivery of what appeared to be a rather large paper towel. Guess someone cooked bacon in the microwave and some puppy thought the paper towel would be just delicious.

AND THEN- everyone rejoiced except for the potential writer who would have loved the comfort of at least one latex glove.

Puppy patient is now relived and prancing through the back yard. Kids have just reminded me, there's only three more days left of school. Dear God.

Currently looking for ghostwriters then exchanging laptop for wine.