I’ve been vastly unproductive this week, but it’s not all my fault. Our monthly write-in was rudely interrupted by a wall cloud that decided to form in uncomfortably close proximity to a couple of our houses. In all honesty, I’d been procrastinating for the first hour of the write-in, but I swear I was about two minutes from tapping out my first word when some benevolent patrons informed us of the imminent doom promised by the weather. As I was walking out the door of the coffee shop, the sirens started blaring. Consequently, I drove 60 miles an hour home on mostly 35 mph streets to ensure that my two long-haired chihuahuas were taking appropriate precautions. I spent most of the remainder of the evening huddled in a closet in the basement with my two puppies and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Luckily, I was in good company. As, as you might assume from me writing this post, we were not swept off to Oz.
Meteorologists have been forecasting the end of the world for tonight, which led to me skipping a birthday party to hunker down. Somewhat unsurprisingly, it’s been rather calm so far, though the radar suggests that could change soon enough. The upside is that I have managed to get a bit of writing done. Nothing extensive at only four pages, but I did break into Act Three. I’d like to finish the first draft by the end of the weekend; I don’t know if that’s entirely plausible, but I hope to make a valiant effort in that direction.
The wind’s picking up a bit, so I’m going to wrap up. I’m hoping to have some more focused posts soon, so stay tuned!