July has been a month. And then some.
It was supposed to be the month where I wrote every day. Maybe moved two short story ideas from rough draft to final copy. A focus on the memoir entries. Maybe a few reflections on current events to fill in the gaps. Writing. Every day.
And then the rains came.
A torrential downpour that flooded my basement the day before leaving on a vacation. I spent the day moving everything to the dry part of the basement, wet vacuuming up the water, mopping the place down with bleach and setting up the dehumidifier to run non-stop while I was away on vacation. Still had to pack and be ready for an 8-hour drive the next day.
Ready, set, off for vacation.
The plan was to write in my notebook while on vacation. The goal wasn’t 1,000 words a day for those days, but just to write. That didn’t happen. That was not a realistic goal. Two full days of driving to get to our destination, one full day spent with our family quickly followed by another two days of driving. When exactly was I going to write?
No problem. Will pick up the writing when I get home and get back on task.
I felt it starting the last day while driving home. That scratchy throat that means nothing good is coming. We made it home. Exhausted. Woke up the next morning and *IT* had arrived.
Some people get a little sick. Not me. I commit. I was taking one of those -D drugs that you have to sign for at the pharmacy. Didn’t help. Spent most of the next 5 days in bed sleeping or out of bed feeling miserable. Writing? What’s that?
Monday was the first day I felt better. I went and did some stuff and was ready for bed by 6. It still lingers today, but it is more allergy-like than illness-like.
My daily writing goal for July is history. All I can do at this point is pick up where I left off and continue on. So that’s what I’m going to do.