I don’t know if life is dropping on anybody else like the proverbial measure of squarish building things, but it is me. Mom and Pop Dave had a great visit. Caer Dave is sparkling (ish), Dave wrote (a bunch: short story and several space opera chapters), much goodness was accomplished, and Wee and Wee-er Dave had ALL. THE. FUN.
Which is part of the problem. They are now having less fun, and taking this out on each other, which really means they’re taking it out on me. But I also received a call (half an hour after Mom and Pop Dave drove orft) asking if I was actually planning on bringing the car in to get the collision damage fixed. YES! Yes, I am. Called the insurance to clear up a final question, call the rental place to confirm pick-up, get the littles set, and loaded, and start the car. Start. The. Car.
The car isn’t starting.
My mighty steed is showing zero signs of life. Jumper box does nada. Jumping via Mrs. Dave’s mighty steed only makes the alarm go off, and then it dies agin. Loverly. AAA is apprised, and sends a dude. We wait. Dude arrives, jumps the mighty steed from his even mightier Clydesdale. We drive around, acquire caffeination (for me: littles will be little enough without it) and go get the parts tested. Everything checks out, and it looks like a creature left a light on. Again. Second time in a week. (Breathe.) Go to rental, do paperwork, head to body shop. Which is closed for lunch. Wait, then, rental dude arrives with rental. Office is still closed. Wait some more. Drop keys, apologize for delay (my fault for forgetting the appointment in the first place), bugger off. Finally get home.
So, I’m a little … frazzled. Frazzled is a good word. I’m sorry this is late. You’d think I’d enjoy it, as often as happens.
If life is hitting you as hard as it’s hitting me, stop. Step back, and take a breath. Now, take another. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Use that diaphragm. Just do that for a minute. Set a timer if you have to. If you have an errant thought careening around the back recesses of your mind, just let it. Let it do its thing, and see what happens. But keep breathing.
After that, I dunno. Write something? I’m going to go lift when I’m done with this. I need to check on the littles, and lift heavy things for my sanity. Plan dinner. All the usual bits that I don’t particularly like, but that’s my life right now.
Speaking of which, until the littles are in preschool for the mornings (thirty-five days and a wake-up), I won’t be doing much fictionating. I know what happens next, I know where I want everything to go. I think I even have the characters convinced they should go that direction (though that’s as much a question for the readers, as it is for me.)
To put a cap on this (on; not in), I have a question for you all: how do you come up with titles? I’m completely rubbish at it, so I’m looking for tips and tricks. I found this one weird one, but it just took me to a strange site that had nothing to do with writing.