It's 1:30 in the morning and here I am, laptop up and running, Deadliest Catch on Discovery Channel, and I'm blogging. Not sleeping. Blogging. Hmm... what's wrong with this picture?
I'll admit, I'm a night owl by nature. Back before the Boy and the Girl came along, it wasn't at all unusual for me to be up until 3 or 4 in the morning (on weekends. I had to function Monday-Friday at a 9-5 job. Not going to happen on 3 hours' sleep.) And if I was in the middle of working on a manuscript, when the Girl was a baby, I would literally be going to bed as my husband was getting up for work. Fortunately for me, the Girl was a late-sleeper, so if I went to bed at 3, I knew I'd get a solid six hours. I'm a slug by nature as well, but I can function on five hours of sleep if I have to. Since having kids, I've learned I can go 24 hours without sleep, but I get real loopy by the end of those 24 hours, so I really try not to do it if at all possible.
But right now, I'm just not tired. I promised myself I was taking tonight off. I bought two new books (woo hoo - a trip to Barnes & Noble equals a day well-spent to me), and I was going to curl up and read. No TV. No writing. No researching. No outlining. Just me and my book.
What books, do you ask? Mine Until Midnight by Lisa Kleypas and My Lord and Spymaster by Joanna Bourne. Confession time: I've never read anything by Kleypas. But I've read a lot of good things about her books, so I figured it was time to give her a shot. But I did read The Spymaster's Lady and it was wonderful, so naturally, I bought her next book.
I cannot remember the last time I sat down and read an historical romance, and that's a crime. No wonder I was having a hard time writing anything new. How can I write in a genre if I haven't read anything recently in said genre? Oy.
So, I decide I'm settling in tonight with My Lord and Spymaster. I'm about 60 pages into it and so far, it's wonderful. However...
You knew it was coming, didn't you?
My husband, we found out, has swimmer's ear. Yep. Ever since we opened the pool, I've been telling him "Put a couple of drops of rubbing alcohol in your ears when you get out of the pool." This is a trick I learned as a kid, when I had the mother of all cases of swimmer's ear. Someone suggested to me, I tried it, and I haven't had it since. It works.
But, does he believe me?
No.
He does not.
So now he has swimmer's ear and, to be honest, I don't think the drops the doctor gave him are working. He's in all kinds of pain now. Hmm... I remember getting the pink bubblegum medicine (amoxicillan, I think) and it was disgusting, but it worked. Fast. These drops go in his ear and it doesn't seem they are doing jack. I told him to call the doctor, but he won't do that, either. Grrrr.... stubborn men... God save me from them...
So, around 9PM, I'm all sprawled out on the bed, my nose in this great book, enjoying the me time. And guess who wants to go to bed. Yep, the same guy who, when I suggested he go to bed basically told me to leave him alone - that guy now wants to go to sleep.
Okay, I'm a nice wife (for the most part) and he is truly miserable (of course, he gets a cold and he acts like he's got the plague) so I tuck him and take myself downstairs. Into my office.
Bad move.
All of the sudden, I don't feel like reading any more. I feel like writing. Woo hoo! I've been inspired!
So, I tore apart the first (and so far only) chapter of my newest WIP and I'm pretty happy about how it came out. Then I attacked the beginning of the second chapter, but didn't get too much done because I spent almost an hour combing the internet for some information I needed.
And here I am, almost 2 in the morning and a second wind hit. Yikes. I hope I can get to sleep. And it's hot in here - time to kick the air down a little.
Yeah... that should do it.
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