Yesterday, I was working on KM, finding my groove inside K's head when the phone rang. Though I usually let the answering machine pick up calls during my butt-in-chair time, I couldn't ignore this one. It was the school calling with news about E. She had a slight fever and was complaining of being achy. I gripped the phone a little tighter. Aches along with a fever often mean E's temp is about to soar. I started the Tylenol as soon as we arrived home.
The Tylenol has been enough for now. I find hope in this. I wish my characters agreed. They're less than cooperative today, finding all sorts of reasons why not to be honest with me. Not that I could do much about it if they were. Taking care of E when she's sick leaves me precious little uninterrupted time to return phone calls, let alone sit in one place for the hard work of writing.
I detest taking two steps backward each time E's ill, and hate that I can't predict when I'll next have enough uninterrupted time to enter the zone with my characters. But this much I KNOW: E's been sick often enough during the last six years for me to trust that I will sit butt in chair again.
Some days--especially days like today when E's called for me one time too many--this Truth is the only thing that keeps me going.
Most recent read: One of my Mother's Day presents: the latest Buffy the Vampire Slayer comic--The Long Way Home, Part III by Joss Whedon. Boy, I miss Joss' TV shows.
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