I was living off a high when alerted that my manuscript was actually readable and the offer to help me improve the quality was left on the table. Then death came knocking on our door and I have lost the momentum. I would describe myself as incredibly unmotivated. For two weeks, it has been mocking me. Berating me. My manuscript is kind of an asshole.
Yesterday, I tackled some of it. Allowing myself the grace to simply stop when I couldn’t go any further. Our routine has been so off kilter with two funerals in less than a week. I suppose, I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. Oh, and I appreciate people sharing that deaths come in threes. (When you read that sentence, please emphasize it with a dose of sarcasm and an exaggerated eye-roll.) Those people are guaranteed a part in the next book I write…..as a corpse.
Meanwhile, while I twiddle my thumbs and contemplate my lack of drive, Bailey has been providing lots of opportunities for me, to simply shake me head in amazement. From telling me that he ate “light” which consisted of a bacon cheeseburger, yogurt, and cake to informing me that Sunday is really a day for him since he is my “son”. He told me this as I reminded him to clean his bathroom and vacuum his room. Apparently, that means he doesn’t have to do complete that task. Whatever.
I know that I will get in the groove again. This is just a space to pause and get my shit together. In the meantime, I will just continue to be entertained by the incredible ability of my special needs son to spin the world in his favor.