I’m taking a break from my regularly scheduled Monday to write about my Oh So Romantic Life. On the weekends, I don’t clean so on Monday mornings after I’ve taken the kids to school, the cleaning begins. You’d be amazed at what a mess two days away creates…and how much laundry. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t be. You might experience the same. Today was also shopping day.
It’s raining. I like rain, but I don’t like that it started to pour as I pulled into the driveway. Clutching my Starbucks and an environmentally friendly reusable bag of groceries, I ran for my front door, knowing I had three more trips to make. Of course, today would be the day I bought flats of water. We don’t do juice boxes or soft drinks around here. It’s water—unless the teenagers want to walk to the store and get their own soft drinks. But those flats of water? A pain in the butt when it’s raining buckets.
My hair now plastered to my face and body, I put away the groceries. Thankfully, the fridge was clean—for once—and I could easily put things away. Then it begins…
I start at the back of the house and move forward. Stripping and remaking beds, dusting, scrubbing down the entire bathroom (ick), dusting and washing the living room and kitchen then vacuuming all. Gotta say, I’m pretty tired when that’s all done.
Meanwhile, I’m also doing laundry. Today, I discovered I’m out of soap—even though I was JUST at the store!!! Writers should never leave the house without an edited list. Mine had holes. So I went to blow out the candle in the bathroom. My now-dry hair swung down into the flame, setting part on fire and getting wax on it. Sigh… Oh, ever so romantic. This isn’t what I had in mind when I thought burning scented candles would be a good idea.
So back to the store…
Screaming babies, people swerving in front of me, people who can’t work the U-scan. I just wanted laundry soap…really. Otherwise, no mishaps at the store, and no rain on the way home. I shoulda called that good enough, but no… I stopped through Arby’s. What followed was not Arby’s fault. Not directly. Though, I must say, my senses were thoroughly offended that my drink was served up in a hard plastic U of M cup. I am a die-hard State fan, thank you very much. And said cup didn’t fit in my cup holder because the base is wide and non-flexible. You might guess where I’m going… Diet Pepsi spilled all over my lap. Good thing I went to get the laundry soap.
I have managed something productive. Two manuscripts reviewed, one finalized for two authors I edit. Notes sent out to other authors. All without problems. Shocking, I know.
And now it’s raining again… Time to get the kids. When did we start having hurricanes in Michigan? But I am a romance writer (though I’ve yet to get to my manuscript). I vow that I’ll not look like a drowned rat when my hero comes home to find me perfectly coiffed and made up, dressed in a silk confection that will make his heart beat like hummingbird’s wings… He’ll be so blown away, he won’t even notice when I spend the rest of the night writing and ignoring him.