Want Any Cheese?

Yesterday was a bitch. There's no nicer way to put it. I'm figuring we got about 2.5 inches of hail. I could still see some of it underneath the (now) raggedy lilac bushes. Yuck. My car is now nicely textured, too. Fun fun fun. For various reasons, I ended up with 5 hours of sleep, and the only thing keeping me upright at the moment is Mountain Dew. (Someday I shall build a shrine to that beverage, I swear. I made it through my first two years of college because of that stuff.)

Yeah, yeah... I know, I know... "Want any cheese with that whine?"

Anyhoo, you didn't come here to read my gripings, so what shall we talk about today?

I didn't get any writing done yesterday, and tonight ain't looking too good either. I got a really nice rejection letter today... Ummm... Yeah.

So what does a writer do when life intrudes? Any regular joe would take a personal day. Take one and not feel guilty about it, in fact. Why then, do I feel so friggin' guilty about taking yesterday and today off?

I guess it could be because I'm my own boss, and I know if I admit it to myself, I really don't have a great excuse for slacking off. Sure, yesterday was hell, and we had three waves of storms go through, but it was over by the time I would've started writing anyway. (btw, Boss me is pretty friggin' grumpy about the whole unexcused absence thing right about now.) I was bone tired, but I couldn't sleep anyway, so why was I on the couch watching TV instead of working on my book?

Exactly. Slacker.

When I worked outside the home, they practically had to pry me away from my desk to get me to take a sick day. Unless I was running a major temperature, I was at work. I didn't allow excuses then; I can't imagine why I'm allowing them now.

Tired? Tough schnitzkes. Sick? Shake it off, soldier. Achy? Too bad. There's work to do. We're burning daylight. (This is me talking to myself, btw, so don't take it personally. Unless, of course, you need a good kick in the pants, then I'm happy to help.)

I'm still taking tonight off. It's too late to get anything accomplished - except for words I know I'll just end up deleting. Tomorrow, however, is another story. If I don't get some work done tomorrow, I'm going to take myself out and kick my own ass. I will have deserved it.

Now, drop and give me twenty.

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