I feel like crap...
and all I want is a hole to hide in. A nice, quiet, warm hole where it's mostly dark but primarily quiet.
Bev's got her smoker's-cough and smoker's-sniffle going on, Mom's sick, and the girls don't get the concept of blowing their noses, so it's a goddamn cacophany of NOISE. One of the girls is half-deaf, so she's always yelling and complaining that she can't hear stuff. All of it is like fucking sandpaper on my ears/brain and makes me want to slap people.
I want to write, but that's not happening. Have you ever tried to write smut around small children? Who can get in the mood when every two minutes you're being dunned for attention. (Although if we had two iphones/ipod touches with Pocket Frogs, Talking Carl, Angry Birds, and Smack That Gugl! on them with extra-long-lasting batteries, we might get more peace...)
Ugh. I may just go back to bed.
Bev's got her smoker's-cough and smoker's-sniffle going on, Mom's sick, and the girls don't get the concept of blowing their noses, so it's a goddamn cacophany of NOISE. One of the girls is half-deaf, so she's always yelling and complaining that she can't hear stuff. All of it is like fucking sandpaper on my ears/brain and makes me want to slap people.
I want to write, but that's not happening. Have you ever tried to write smut around small children? Who can get in the mood when every two minutes you're being dunned for attention. (Although if we had two iphones/ipod touches with Pocket Frogs, Talking Carl, Angry Birds, and Smack That Gugl! on them with extra-long-lasting batteries, we might get more peace...)
Ugh. I may just go back to bed.