Work pressures have kept me from my keyboard this week - yes, again. It's all right, it only means I need to average 300 words a day from now until the end of the month in order to make my goal. It's supposed to be a challenge.
I'm like meany writers, I suppose, in that I find it hard to let go of my stresses in order to relax and be creative. It's not impossible, in fact, I'm almost positive that this is the reason they make Bailey's. For my coffee. Or my ice cubes, if it's later in the day. (G) Poor, lonely ice cubes.
The Christmas shopping has begun, we're making an effort not to be stupid with the amount of toys and crap we buy this year. Pebbles prefers the Wishbook to her actual toys (except her books - we read every blessed one four times a day), and BamBam has so many things that if I wrapped half of his stuff I'm betting he wouldn't recognize it. I'm not going to do that, I'm just sayin'.
So cheers to all you hard-working mother writers. May your shopping be easy, and your baths be long.