May the Fourth Be With You

the crazy is strong

So – it’s May 4th! The beginning of my Chicago writer’s retreat! Guess where I am RIGHT NOW?

If you guessed Chicago, that was both a logical assumption AND completely incorrect.

I am in Portland. In my house. Because of the stomach flu. It knocked my poor kidlet on his ass and resulted in a metric ton of vomit in places I prefer to not have vomit. Like my CAR. It also did a number on the architect and me, although we recovered far easier than my poor kid.

Still – even though I am not eating Chicago pizza (I know it’s not pizza, Cat) and running on the lake shore and having sleeping in because no small people want to wake up at 6 am to tell me, “It’s morning, mommy! The sun is up. Get up! Put on some pants!”

Wait…where was I going with that?

Oh yes, staycation as opposed to vacation doesn’t mean my goals have gone away.

So – goals for the week:

Monday: clean the house in preparation for the houseboy. Perhaps put together a training manual on how to bring me drinks and rub sunscreen in when the weather gets warm enough for me to lounge in the kiddie pool with rosé.

Day 069

I have a new bikini this year. One that can take more structural stress, I hope.

Monday afternoon: find a location to write/edit/etc.

Tuesday: edit like a crazy person. Lunch with the architect. Edit until my eyeballs fall out.

Wednesday: repeat (except I think lunch by myself that day, unless someone wants to hit me up for lunch.

Thursday: Bean’s 3-year doctor appointment. Lunch with a friend (Jamie! Holla!). Edit, edit, edit.

Friday: Repeat of Tuesday. Drink.

Saturday: Fuck, I have a triathlon that day. Provided I don’t drown, I’ll watch the St. Johns parade and attend the Bizarre.

Sunday: sleep and mourn the loss of vacation.

Solid plans, right?

By Friday afternoon, i.e. drinking time, I want to have gone through the entire book once. Then the rest of May is scrubbing and cutting and fixing.

June 1, I’m emailing it to my PSM and first reader. And then she can eviscerate me. Metaphorically.

The end.

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