Today is one of those mornings when writing feels extra hard. I already spent an hour rereading old writer's notebooks looking for something that might spur an idea. My brain is just all over the place. I've got to get something down before you-know-who wakes up or I will get the "she's-at-the-computer" look again or "I thought you had a lot to do today" scowl.
Crap, I hear him in the bathroom. I'm screwed now. It is still dark out. It's raining. Maybe he'll crawl back into bed. Nope. I don't hear the sound the bed makes when he plops back down. That means he is putting on shoes and sweats and on his way down. I wonder if he will go to the gym. If he does, he'll walk by and I will get the look. I wonder which one, he has so many. Wow, that sounded pretty mean. I put the stools up on the island so it looks like I'm starting to clean the kitchen floor. I also throw a load in the washer. I do have a lot to do today. It is my son's confirmation. The food is ready. I just have to pick up the cake and potato salad, iron his shirt and pants, and clean. Geez I hate cleaning.
He hasn't come down yet. Maybe he did go back to bed. My cat Fred is rubbing on my foot and purring. He never resents the time I spend writing. Listening. Listening. Silence. Now I feel guilty. The poor guy could still be sleeping and here I am complaining about him and he didn't even do anything. He has a busy day too. He has to pick up my daughter from college. She is my son's confirmation sponsor. When she talked to me yesterday, she told me she got something pierced and it looks really cute. Doubt it. I wonder if my husband will notice when he picks her up. Washer stopped. Listening. Still quiet up there. Nope. Nope. Here he comes. Down the steps.