Kids are back in school. All the last-minute, little weird things necessary to get them settled–paperwork, signing syllabi, letting their teachers know I’m watching–are taken care of, except for getting the Little Prince performance wear for choir class. (Kid’s in middle school now, and has Opinions. Whoa.)
As a result of arranging, signing, scheduling, and basically juggling chainsaws, I’ve fallen behind. So I’m taking the weekend to catch up. It’s basically a three-day writing retreat.
Well, “retreat” is kind of a misnomer. I’m turning on my out-of-office email replies, scheduling my days to a fare-thee-well, probably forgetting to eat, keeping the phone outside my office, only checking social media at the end of the day after I’ve hit benchmarks, and abdicating my responsibility to wear pants so I can concentrate.
Well, maybe I’ll be forced to wear pants. *sigh* But all the other stuff, yeah. Unless I go on a tour with a skipper, his hapless first mate, a movie star, a professor, and Mary Ann.
Come to think of it, if I run across any of them, I’ll probably just demand they find something caffeinated on that island before I go homicidal. It’s good to have a plan.
Catch you later, gators.