I was determined to get at some long-overdue writing projects tonight. I’m not sure where I went wrong…
After supper I turned on my laptop, took out my notes for my writing, and was just about to sit down when I thought I’d quick load the dishwasher.
Looking out the window while loading the dishes, I saw the clothes still hanging on the clothesline. Knowing rain was coming tonight I went outside and took the clothes off the line.
Brought them in, folded them and put them away.
Throwing out a t-shirt of my husband’s that could have walked itself to the trash, I realized the trash needed to be taken out to the garage.
Which I noticed was full of leaves from the wind blowing them in.
So I swept out the leaves, and couldn’t help but notice the dust on the car.
That all but begged me to wash it, so I did, and then dumped the bucket of extra water over some of my plants in my flowerbed.
Which needed weeding. And dividing. And transplanting.
After all that digging and hauling, I went inside, drank a gallon of water, and was hungry again. Specifically for a root beer float.
In a house with no root beer, or ice cream, I then had to make a trip to the grocery store. Where, as long as I was there, I picked up items for the weekend.
And for some reason, when I got in the house, unpacked the groceries, made my root beer float, and finally sat down to eat it—in front of my computer—I found I was too tired to concentrate on writing.
I’m a little unsure of where I went wrong.
But I know one thing—for some reason, I didn't get any writing done tonight.