OK Rain, you win this round. I should have known it wouldn’t be so easy as to throw on my gum boots and my waterproof jacket, tuck the bairns into their wee slots in the buggy and toss a rain cover not specifically meant for that buggy over top for a quick jaunt uptown to return a DVD to the library and pick up some vegetables.
We made it to the library. We got so very wet. The rain cover is 1. ill-fitting 2. plastic and old so torn in places 3. made for a single stroller, not a double so the boys stayed pretty dry but random pockets of stroller got kind of puddly. Oh but I didn’t discover that until much later, when the puddles turned into soup because they were puddles mixed with random dropped bits of bread / cheerios / sand / in other words the most disgusting thing you have seen unless you’re me and change 45 diapers a day.
The vegetable store wasn’t open yet so I stopped at the dollar store instead and dropped a cool fiver on some poisonous Chinese junk that will probably give my children horns, including a gold plated harmonica that Trombone can’t play (burn!) and a baby rattle that says “lovely baby” on it for Fresco.
Misnomer Rattle Company is pleased to present: a very special rattle.
Then we walked home, wet, cold, Fresco by then getting agitated for some reason and screaming his head off while I tried to remember to straighten my shoulders and keep my belly sucked in that my back muscles might actually get to do something now and then and stop bitching at me. Oh and breathe. Trying to remember to breathe. It was one of those days when I forget.
“No, Fresco,” I shouted over the screaming, the wind, the rain, the cars zooming past, “I cannot take you out and carry you. You will hate that. Trust me. You will get wetter and colder and more screamy and I might drop you because it is very very wet.” I stopped shouting as we passed a guy who popped out from an alley and looked at me like I was deranged. What? I’m shouting. It’s the way we roll.
Here is why I am an idiot. Saturday morning I woke up and thought, shit or get off the pot, self. Are you going to blog every day in November, or not? I decided not. I decided that 30 days of MY LIFE SUCKS I TOTES HATES IT (except when I don’t [but my babyeez are so cute!])would be a bit excessive and I can’t seem to bring anything else out to the front of my mind so I am going to spare you all. Maybe once a week I will share MY LIFE SUCKS I TOTES HATES IT (except when I don’t [but my babyeez are so cute!]) and then one day I will be over this particular hump and will write about books or dogs or transit or fuck I don’t know. Something else.
Wait, why am I an idiot? Oh yes. Saturday morning etc. and then I thought well I could write a novel instead. And in the time it took me to take a shower, which on Saturdays is close to 15 minutes, I had decided I could TOTALLY write a 50,000 word novel in a month, after all I’ve done it before and so that morning I went out, bought a new notebook and two pens and started on a November novel. Oh, yes, by pen, because my laptop is in the living room and I will never get anything done on this computer because I will have to write during naptime and then I will be tempted to read Go Fug Yourself or something instead of write my 1750 words per day. Old school, I am kicking it, please to enjoy.
Saturday I wrote about half of what I ought to have. Sunday I went to a coffee shop (also why the pens and notebook are key, so I can go out with them) and wrote my quota and today, well today I decided my hand hurt so I was going to write on the laptop after all and I got to 1150 words before the children woke up from their (very short) naps. Really today is a success story though I was quite angry at the time. Short naps + rainy day = oh so very bad news.
Anyway, writing fiction is very different than blogging. I haven’t written fiction in so long I am horrifying myself at every paragraph break. I figure I’ll give it a week and see what shakes out by next Saturday and then I give myself permission to give up. Extenuating circumstances and all that.
But today the magical thing happened where I was writing really boring shit about these really boring people and all of a sudden a really cool character turned up. I love that. That’s partly why the interruption stung so bad.
I will see you tomorrow, Rain. I am going to kick your ass.