Mistakes Were Made

Specifically the mistakes were made by me. It was one, and fairly boneheaded. I knew what today would be, and I should have traded days with my assistant, instead of being blithely convinced that I could do what I needed to in between two fairly lengthy appointments.

I was wrong. Also dumb. In my defense, I have been up since six, so we could make it to appointment in time.

First, do not be alarmed, they were NOT medical, but financial/money appointments. Also don’t be alarmed on that, though I might still be in moderate pain from it, but that’s because I’m what’s the technical term… oh, frugal. Or if you prefer a skinflint. (Look, I married a man from Connecticut. After a while these things transfer.)

In the approximately fifteen minutes between appointments I might have ruined the marbelizing on the bedside table I’ve been working on for two weeks. Okay, hopefully not, but there’s a big “hopefully” in there. Look, it’s too hot to be working outside (in a tent) with glazes, and I know that, but I had a visit from the good idea fairy. It was the imp of stupidity instead, and I should have known that.

Dan says we need to get done with all this other stuff because I haven’t been writing fiction for a while and I’m starting to act peculiar. The glaze thing was a symptom of that. “I can’t afford not to write” is the thing.

To compensate you for blowing today (Unintentionally) I’ll try to blog tomorrow.

And now I’ve been pinned down by the Muse, which you’d think would mean I was going to write, but it’s the other muse. This one.

Look, I can’t argue with her, so I’m going to nap, then HOPEFULLY work.