This summer I have had a very demanding new part-time job. It wasn’t one I wanted but there’s no turning it down. The job is going to doctors. My husband’s been sick, I’ve been sick, even the cats. Illness and injury and “conditions.” One thing after another. I just got back from a bunch of x-rays today, never mind what happened. Not my idea of a good time. I figured it was because I’m “getting older” but I’ve heard from people much younger that they have been going through similar things. Stuff happens, so they say. Doctors, doctors, and more doctors. What would we do without ‘em? But those appointments can sure be a time vortex.
What has all of this meant for my writing? Well, let’s say it hasn’t been good. Progress has been slow and unsteady. As someone recently told me, though, “Stop making excuses.” Well, we’re not talking excuses here but I know what she meant. I intend to do better. I plan on getting to work as soon as I get back from the vet where I’m taking a cat for her rabies booster.
