That's exactly how I felt when I walked into my own house tonight, 8 p.m., tired after a long author's reception, and hungry. This is what my house looked like. When I left it may have had a few corners that needed straightening--the bathroom and kitchen may not have been perfect, but oh my! I'm not fastidioius housekeeper--I hate to clean house, but I can't stand clutter. The great warning used to be "Hold on to your glass or she'll police it." So you can imagine how overwhelmed I feel. All this is in preparation for the garage sale Jordan and Christian are having at my house at the break of dawn (or before) tomorrow morning--you'd be surprised how early people arrive. It's at my house because I live on a busier street than they do and because tomorrow is the annual neighborhood garage sale. I'm hoping Jacob and I can sleep through the early parts and then I can calmly feed him breakfast and get him watching Lion King or some such, but I have a feeling it's a vain hope. I may run away mid-morning to the grocery, but I cannot adequately tell you how much I dread this periodic event. Where in heaven's name do they get all the stuff to sell?
TCU Press hosted a reception for one of our books tonight at the Community Arts Center. It's a photography book, Fort Worth: A Personal View, and 18 photos from the book are on exhibit in one of the CAC galleries during the entire month of October. The photographer is thrilled; he sold some books tonight, we did an inexpensive reception--pretzel sticks, smoked almonds, and marianted olives, plus wine, of which folks didn't drink a whole lot. But it was a good three hours on our feet, and I was hungry and tired when I got home. The kids had eaten smoked turkey sandwiches, and while I was eating my dinner at my desk, Christian stuck his head in to ask, "What did you cook that smells so good?" I felt guilty telling him it was a ground sirloin patty and a blue cheese salad.
Last nigth Betty and I went shoe shopping before dinner and bought identical black shoes--we'll be the Bobbsey twins. Then we went back to the wine cafe, and I had the same thing I'd had two nights earlier--wedge salad and chocolate mousse. So good. Then I came home, watched the debates--until Jordan, Jacob and Christian arrived after which I watched with half an eye, the other eye on Jacob. Still no great writing accomplished.
So now it's the tail end of another
long day--I did a massive grocery shopping, worked in the morning, etc.--and I'm too tired to think about being a writer. I find my days boil down to work in the morning, deal with emails in the afternoon, a nap, and maybe something constructive at night. At this rate, I'll never get my second mystery done, and I have to somehow change my schedule--no, giving up the nap is not an option! Sometmes I think how lucky I am that my life is so full that I don't have time to write--but hey, that's wrong. Writing is what I want to do.