After my last post, I made a concerted effort to get myself back on track. As a result, I went through several days of wonderful productivity. I both set and met writing quotas every day. Even Tuesday, which was filed with fighting cats, cranky toddlers and renegade horses in our yard, saw me exceed my writing goals.
Perhaps I got cocky. Whatever the reason, yesterday blindsided me. Now, I understand that a 20-month-old doesn't understand my need to work, or to focus on anything other than her. My question is (men, especially, pay attention):
How can an adult with reasonable brain capacity not realize I cannot simultaneously carry on a conversation and write a book?
Yes, it's a snarky question, brought about by intense frustration yesterday. Since last night was bell choir night, desperation moved me to make the 45-minute drive a couple hours early and hole myself up in Starbucks. A soy, no-water chai latte helped my mood tremendously, as did the ability to finally finish my daily chapter for my client.
Today, I'm back on track. I've already finished that daily client chapter, and now look forward to two hours of toddler nap time in which to write a mere seven pages on my own project...three to make up for yesterday plus the four scheduled for today.
All right, maybe yesterday's damage is irreversible. I'm still basically on track, committed and making progress. What more can a WAHWM (Work at Home Writer Mom) ask for?