The Trade-Off

After doing little more than hen-pecking at Book Three yesterday, I am feeling appropriately guilty and glum this morning.

In a disturbing schizophrenic-like twitch, I feel the need to defend myself to, well, myself.

(SIDE NOTE: a line of question marks in bold print would certainly be appropriate here, but seeing as it would mar the sleek, sporty lines of this blog, I leave them to your own imagination.)

A long day on the road, followed by rough-housing with the best 4 year old little boy in the entire universe (i.e. my nephew) and my creative juices were little more than spotty in their flow.

A hundred words here, another fifty there and I was done… “Put a fork in me, call in the kids, it’s time to eat!” kind of done.

So, I’m doing the Guilt thing this morning.

Mix in some incredibly ugly skies and we’ve got some Glum flowing too.

Not fun.

But…

Yesterday was fun.

My nephew is definitely, absolutely, inarguably worth a speck of guilt and glum hangover on my crazy part.

It is a trade-off I’d make every freaking, fun day.

*grins past the guilt and the glum*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe