One of those days

Is there a spot on the moon today? Or does the calendar know it’s the 13^th but think it’s Friday? Either way, my luck has changed. Woke up from an afternoon nap feeling sort of blue, and the evening at my desk has done nothing to improve that mood.

I set out to find the files of some novels I had starts on, rough notes, maybe 1000 words of a first draft. There should be two of them, but I cannot find them. It may be that my computer in its wisdom has decided they should be abandoned and has swallowed them. It’s probably the best fate for them, but before I start something new, I wanted to check.

Today I digitized two books, and one was rejected. I had to go back and correct the way my name was displayed. And I burned myself out this morning trying to collect tax information for my accountant. I don’t think I’ll ever finish, and it’s frustrating because it keeps me from creative work.

My publicist wrote with a note that a blog post was due today. But I’d never heard of this blog and hadn’t even begun to think about a topic on the book requested. I don’t do spur-of-the-moment well, so I will lie in bed tonight and think on it. It’s a romance blog—yes, there’s a bit of romance in Murder at Peacock Mansion, but it isn’t front and center by any means.

And then friends came for happy hour. The wife reminded me that we were having lunch with a third friend Friday—oops, my mentor is scheduled to bring lunch Friday. I’ve double-booked myself. You’d think I had a galloping social life but it’s simply not true.

I learned from the physical therapist today that I am classified as homebound—she was taken aback that I have several outings planned this week. I’ve been homebound or mostly so since early fall. Now that I have little or no pain, I’m anxious to get out. In fact, a friend is taking me to a breakfast group in the morning, and my mouth is set for biscuits and gravy. I lost twenty lbs. on this journey, and I can allow myself such indulgences.

With visions of biscuits and gravy, I’m going to pack it up and spend the rest of the evening reading. I’m still enjoying Jenn McKinley’s Hat Shop Mysteries. It does, however, seem like a very long evening ahead, and I don’t want to go to bed early because I’ll not sleep at 4 a.m.if I do that.

Let’s see—I can’t think of anything else to whine about, so I’ll quit. A bit of belly-aching is good for the soul. Thanks for listening. Tomorrow will be a better day. Blessings and sleep tight.