Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The gods couldn't be that cruel.
There's no way that we've been issued a winter storm warning here. This is Ohio. We don't get our winter storms for another month or so. We just get pissy little snows that are gone from the roads before I even think of bestirring myself from my writer's crypt and venture out to Walmart to get cat litter.
Last night, when I was alert enough to think about the future, I thought, "You know...I need to go to the store in the morning and get cat litter." I even checked the weather--and laughed, laughed, I tell you!--at the poor slobs who live in Northern Ohio and who were going to get half a foot of snow tomorrow while we were content with our normal measly inch.
How in the hell was I to know that the storm would shift south? So now here it is, after four in the morning, when I've been on a writing jag for about twelve hours straight and I've got to leave my nice warm writing nook, get in the car and drive to the store to pick up fucking cat litter and cigarettes so I won't have to leave the house for the three days it will take for the snow plows to hit our country road. Simply ducky. I'm not going now--that would be suicidal. I'm having to close one eye just to type. Noooooooooooooooo... I have to time this between the first glimmer of dawn and the first flake of snow to insure I get there safely.
Which means I have to stay up all night.
Which means I might as well keep writing.
Which means that tomorrow, which is the last day of voting in the P&E Readers' Poll, I'll be begging my husband to drag out the ladder and scrape snow off the satellite dish so that I can shamelessly plug my books for last minute votes.
(did you like the way I snuck that shameless plug in? Go vote...go vote now! you can see the links--just scroll down)
Hell, I probably won't even have television. I won't be able to do anything but write and change the cat boxes and take the snowblower up and down the driveway every hour or so. Snow may accumulate at rate of over an inch per hour--damn you weather gods! I need my internet tomorrow! This isn't fair! It's a conspiracy, I tell you--a damned conspiracy.
Oh well. Less internet means more writing and since I'm nearing the end of this book, it may mean I might just get it finished by the end of the week. That will make it the second completed novel of 2009 if you count Breaking the Covenants with Rob Graham. Since my goal for the year is seven completed novels, it will put me well on my way.
So let it snow. Just let me get the damn cat litter first. Then snow all you want to.