I have not left my house in twelve days. I might as well be wearing an ankle bracelet.
Writing books is an insane lifestyle. Have you noticed that writers whine a lot? We do. I do. You should feel very sorry for Banjo Man.
My butt hurts. I think I need a new chair. I think I need a new career. I shouldn’t have dropped out of college after only 30 days. I don’t want to get up at 4 AM any more. I need to have my eyes checked. I’m gaining weight. I can’t talk to my friends until the book is done. I am all alone here in my office, all the time. Thank goodness I am only a few pages away from finishing this damn thing. I can’t believe this book is taking so long to write. Why didn’t I start this a year ago? Why did I start this at all? Did I mention that my butt hurts?
Yes, feel very very very sorry for Banjo Man.
Yesterday I sat outside in my car and drank a diet coke and ate some Wheat Thins. It was such a pretty afternoon, all sunshine and yellow leaves dropping on the driveway. I needed a break from staring at a monitor. The seats in the Highlander are so comfy.
As soon as I finish this book I am going to Texas. Seriously. Going. To. Texas.
To the land of vintage cowboy boots, guacomole, Johnny Gimble and margaritas.
I will celebrate a couple of special birthdays. Hug my boys. Fiddle. Babysit. Read story books. Go for walks. Cook some massive family dinners. Shop for a wild pair of vintage Tony Lama’s. Listen to lots of live music. Spoil my daughter-in-law. Adore my grandson. I will not whine at all.
The next book is due December 15th, but that is far, far away. In another galaxy.