Today is one of them.
To be a working children’s writer, to make a career of it, you work a lot. Even when you don’t feel like it. Usually, I feel like it, but today…not so much.
My dad is in the hospital in Florida. He’s expected to go home today, but…my mom was also expected to go home within a day or two when she died in a hospital last July.
I’m not feeling great, physically. Upset stomach over the weekend and feeling drained. It’s like my overseas travel aftermath has just kicked in–and kicked my butt.
My critique group meets today (yay), but I have nothing prepared to bring (boo).
I need a haircut, but no time for that today.
I have 113 emails in my inbox that require action of some kind–reading I need to do, responding to illustrator sketches, answering questions about a revision, etc. And most have been waiting several days already and need to be taken care of today.
The overnight breakfast casserole I made smells quite unappealing.
I feel behind in everything. Every. Thing.
I love what I do. Most days I dive in with enthusiasm.
Today, I’m just trying to tread water. (But I’m sure tomorrow will be better.)