Night, Sir Edward Burne-Jones
Every night lately my brain runs wild like a three-year old at the mall. Last night I slept for maybe two hours and forty-five minutes, no more than dozing with dreams really. So I decide fine, I’ll get some work done. Then the brain lies down flat and stiff on the floor and refuses to budge. Oy.
The shiny side of this dilemma is with all the whooping and hollering and knocking things down and keeping me awake that the brain was doing, it solved the problem I was having with Sweet Taboo and gifted me with the middle of the book–the three-year old zoomed up and gave mama a heart-melting grin before resuming chaos. I got the whole story now and I’m going to write it the way it needs to be written.
Right now I’m at the day job and in a few minutes I’m going to stroll to the Starbucks and get a latte, triple espresso, so I can get through today. Good thing Junior knows the way to work.
Seeing as sleep has gone on vacation, looks like I’ll be putting the hollow hours of the night to good use.