I took a few days off work to spend some time writing, and wrangle the kids on my own for a couple days. Naturally, since I’ve got all that quiet time during school, I’m doing virtually everything, but writing.

This morning, after getting the kids off to school, I went home, got the computer fired up, found the place where I was working on some revision, and immediately got a distraught text from my wife. This proved a big distraction, and as she was already not pleased with stuff, I wasn’t going to get any “thank-you’s” when she got home to dead chickens and or ducks. So, I went on to feed and water them (Which sucks at 30F in 35mph wind by the way, but as we’re in Alaska, though hard, that’s actually pretty damn good conditions for the time of year.) Soaking wet and covered in duck $***, I marched back to the shed to find there wasn’t any chicken feed, don’t think we’ve had any for a few days. No big deal, the gym is on the way to the feed store, I could squeeze in a quick run on the way. I wanted to run anyhow, right? In any case, I decided they were chickens and a few more hours weren’t likely to hurt. So, I went back in to a phone call from my wife to continue the text conversation we’d started just a bit before. Once we’d got all that sorted out, the dishes were calling, along with the finding of appropriate attire for the children to wear to their Christmas concert.

Finally, I managed to get back to the computer, just long enough to get distracted by you-tube movies on guitar making (check out crimson custom guitars if you’re into that sort of thing. That guy is good.) Needless to say, before I knew it, it was time to think about running out for that feed and exercise, so I pulled a comb through my hair, found my red rocket-ship underpants, and headed off for the gym.

After struggling my way through a 3 mile run on a tiny track, I stood in the shower for waaay too long before deciding it was time to get under way again. Time check after loading up the feed gave me an hour and a half before it was time to get the kids. It was just enough time to try out that new sushi restaurant and maybe scribble some notes in my notebook, because that’s writing too… and yeah that sounded real nice. Sushi and writing, actually hell yeah! Wait. Forgot my notebook… UGH…

Don’t forget your notebook – EVER.

PS – I bought a notebook on the way to sushi and wrote this post, the sushi was good, can I call it a win?