The other project I was invited to work on that was supposed to come after ESTC has been temporarily put on hold (not dead, I’m told, just resting for an undefined period of time), so I won’t be leaping from writing one contracted book into another this fall. I’m a bit disappointed, because hey, it’s work and I like the subject a lot, but at the same time I’m thankful, because taking a couple of months off will be very, very nice and also good for my mental health. I’ll be able to focus on writing other books again, like Swan Sister, and editing the other ones lying around here. Plus I’ll finally get the down time of Liam being at daycare a couple of days a week without having to formally work those days. I can’t complain about the timing of contracts falling into my lap right when Liam started daycare, but a bit of a break would have been nice.
Okay: off to get the boy. And to fill the gas tank to the brim with gas that’s priced at 97 cents per litre along the way! Nice timing, what with our long drive coming up.
I can see the bottom molars in Liam’s mouth when he opens his mouth to cry about them — not just the bumps, but the actual teeth. They’re covered by such a thin layer of skin. If they don’t come through in the next couple of days I don’t know what I’ll do; he’s going crazy, and taking the rest of us with him. I know it will pass. He doesn’t.
I had to cancel Maggie’s follow-up appointment at the vet tomorrow, because the retest is going to cost half of what the original appointment cost, significantly more than I expected it to. I made another appointment for the following week. We’ll see if we can keep that one.
I am having a thoroughly miserable day. Because we’re driving on Friday and I won’t be able to write I had this afternoon slotted for work while Liam plays with his godparents for a couple of hours, even though all I wanted to do was curl up and hide under the covers and give myself time off from everything. (Sleep would have been nice, but just hiding was attractive in and of itself.) Instead of either, I ended up doing an in-depth vacuuming when I got home because I couldn’t stand walking on toast crumbs all over the place any more, cleaning up the bedroom because I couldn’t stand not having a single room that I felt comfortable in, and handling correspondence. Now it’s less than half an hour before I have to leave to pick the boy up again, and I feel like I’ve achieved nothing. There will be toast crumbs all over the place again tomorrow, the bedroom will be a mess again tonight, I’ve done no work on the book, and I didn’t sit down and zone out for even a moment. There’s been absolutely no improvement to my state of mind or spirit.
I hate not enjoying being in my own home. I hate not being able to relax. I hate that I can’t stop my son’s pain. I hate feeling guilty for wanting to hand my son to someone else for a while even though I know that a sane parent is a better parent and he benefits well from a change in company and environment.
This thing called life can go take a long walk off a short pier. I need a holiday.