Working It

Oy. This is rough. Two days into writing the new novel, and I am not sleeping a wink. This was my day yesterday: Kid woke me up at 7 (actually, I was already up, but she got me out of my room). Tried to blog (failed), answered some emails, paid bills, did some banking, counted my (not) earnings from my weekend craft fair, folded laundry (much of this while I spent forty-seven minutes on the phone with AT&T regarding a rebate I should have received months ago), made Romy breakfast, did a twenty minute yoga tape, showered, ordered a pair of Vans with my (not) craft fair earnings, made Romy lunch, took her to her first day of preschool, parked my car in her school parking lot and tried to write in the less than one hour and forty-five minutes I had while she was in school, picked her up, bought a first day of school treat (she had a cookie, I had a taffy apple), went grocery shopping, rushed home to make Romy dinner before dance class, then dance class. After that: story time, bath time, bedtime. FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKK. Did you catch the minuscule writing time in there? Even right now, as I type this, I am in a panic because I have to get dressed (unshowered) to make it to the library at 9 a.m. for my two hour reservation in a little room to write my book. Am I seriously going to live like this until the book is finished? I already feel horrid. Insane. Tired. Ugly. Will it get better because the family will get into a rhythm? Or will it spiral completely out of control until I have to call my editor bawling that I will never be able to write another book until my daughter is in school full time (not for another two years)? Stay tuned for more Diary of a Mad Writer