… where the guy is on a bicycle and it's going full speed and then a stick gets stuck in the spokes?
So there I am, thinking, "Dropping kids off at school, going to Weight Watchers, taking car in for maintenance, picking kids up early for dentist appointment, getting them home in time for Zoomboy's dance lessons, getting food for dinner, and then coming home to write…"
That's me. ON a bicycle… see me zoom?
Then Squish: Mom… my stomach doesn't feel good. At all.
That's me. Getting a stick in my spoke and going end over end over end.
So, instead of going ZZOOOOOOOMMMMM through my day, I'm home writing while Squish watches Bob's Burgers.
I bought a fuckton of ginger ale after dropping ZB off at school, as well as a thermometer and a Hello Kitty stuffed toy, because tradition dictates small toy comes with sick day. Just does.
So, Squish is recovering from the stomach flu-- I hope, and me?
I'm still on my back on that figurative street, gazing at the sky and trying to formulate a plan for getting back on the bike.
And here's a mugshot of Squish (seriously-- could she look any sicker, or any more like a wild-haired goddess bent on vengeance?) along with my writer copy of Immortal. The book is beautiful, and Squish is too-- but she's actually more beautiful when she feels better.