Yea, Me!

Guess what I did today??? Okay, not much, but I still feel as though I was productive. I rearranged my dining room, organized my kitchen and cleared my writing space. I took care of a friend who just needed a break from life and I went to karate. Did I mention I cooked a FABULOUS dinner? All this equates to a packed day for me. You'll notice that I'm saying "today" when in fact it's only a little after 5am. Until I go to bed, it's today.

After I got my children settled, I turned on The L Word and reviewed my last project. I had to prepare it for a contest, which means checking each word, each page for anything that could be considered in any way flawed. I made a few changes and printed it out. All I have to do is get all of it to the post office. While I fine tuned that ms, I wrote another query, printed it and got it packaged for mailing. Though I didn't do any writing on the current project, I spent the day being writerly. That counts, doesn't it?

About dinner...My dear husband has done the cooking duties for the good part of a month. I have to say I'm not a really good person. I try, but sometimes I can't keep my mouth shut. He did his best, and my kids had no problem eating their dad's cooking. I tried to eat some of the early meals, but after each, I was hit with terrible waves of nausea. As I can't stand the thought of puking, I stopped eating. It was easier to be hungry than to have a heaving stomach. As the month progressed, the meals got more and more "interesting." Antelope chili, moose stew, anything that could be made from red meat and in GIANT quantities. The smell was enough to put me off food for a good minute. The last straw was his spaghetti.

I've had some bad pasta sauce, but this topped all. It wouldn't have been bad if he hadn't asked for my opinion. I told him the truth. He knows me well enough to understand that if one queries my opinion, one will receive truth as I see it. I went with a diplomatic answer--it seemed to be lacking something. We then worked together to figure out what went wrong with the sauce. He accepted my help and moved on. No feelings hurt, but I still feel like the bad guy for having to tell the truth. When my surprise meals flop, I'm the first to admit that they suck and I wouldn't hold it against any of my subjects, I mean victims, test dummies, family--that's the ticket--for speaking their minds.

His cooking exploits are why I had to resume my duties. Amazingly, I had no stomach upset from eating dinner. Funny that. Once again, I've been hornswaggled into cooking a crazed Thanksgiving dinner. My husband wants to learn how to de-bone a turkey. I've done it for so many years that it's almost as easy as writing my name. I just realized that I will spend the better part of the coming days in my kitchen. My kitchen is my domain--no one is allowed entrance when I'm in the zone--at least not without a pass from me. I love to cook, and I know I'll be excited once I'm in the throes of prepping the dinner. It's just the anticipation that makes me crazy. Friends would argue that I'm crazy without the anticipation bit, but I choose to ignore them.

So what's on the agenda for tomorrow? More of the same, but a bit heavier on the new work in progress. I'll spend some time at the post office, waiting in line while making polite conversation with my queue mates. Then, I'll run random errands that wouldn't fit in today's schedule. I'm sure dinner will happen at some point. All I have to do is do it. The break has been just what I needed.

One final thought before I sign off...
I had an interesting dream last night. Before I went to bed, I thought about my current project and the direction I need in order for my imagination to become real--or at least as real as ink on a page can be. I was somewhere in California for some sort of party. That part wasn't all that clear. The organizer was someone I respect deeply. She gave me money and told me that the event depended on me getting supplies. Apparently, I did everything right, because when I returned, she congratulated me and gave me a car. It was a coppery-orange color--one of the brand new Mustangs. I remember feeling the drive as I shifted gears--powerful, in control. It was phenomenal and then the alarm went off.

The kids will be up in a few minutes, so it's time to sign off. Have a great night or day or whatever you're headed to. See you tomorrow, folks. Same bat time, same bat channel.