I am quite disgusted with myself.
I have neglected my writing.
Nothing new there.
Why have I been putting everything on the long finger you may well ask?
Why did I sit through Tango and Cash last night when I could have been tooling up a few stories? Please don't be offended Stallone and Kurt et al.
Can't answer you.
Writing defines who I am.
Its the first thing I think of when I awake and the last thing I think about at night. But I have a job, 2 kids, a husband, a dog, a rabbit, and since August a second job. So I am busier than ever.
So time is limited.
Surely SURELY I can get out my laptop with plug in key board and get cracking.
I think I need (to paraphrase my self in full Mom mode) an attitude adjustment.