Thursday, January 12, 2012
Welcome to my Monweek
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Monweek (noun) - a week that is comprised entirely of Mondays.
That should about say it all. In one week (and it's only Thursday, whimper) our family has had one car in the shop, one laptop with firewall issues (mine) and two blue screens of death (mine and mine) and mercurial moods depending on the type of internet connection, an exodus of non-ready-to-be-tossed socks at the most recent laundering, the temptation to rename my day planner "Schroedinger's Schedule," due to simultaneous planning of dates/plans that must be assumed to both work and not work at the same time and...well, you get the drift.
Hence the term "Monweek." Maybe it's seasonal, maybe it's something in the water, but I know I'm not the only one in my circle to be having a Monweek. We've all had them. Those weeks that invoke Murphy's Law, when everything that can go wrong, does, and at the worst possible moment. Still, unless said Monweek involves one's untimely demise, they don't last forever.
Even with the Monweekiness of the last few days, there have been good things. A good meeting with one of my writing friends helped talk me down from the ledge of writerly despair. My TBR shelf, at least the one I have planned to tackle first, has been whipped into shape. I have distinct plans for both reading and writing in the foreseeable future, and I like having those concrete goals written out, with accountability. DH surprised me with pizza (always a good thing) on the evening he came home to find me lying down on the bed with my laptop and Sims2 (the laying down was the key here, after wrangling baskets of laundry as well as other things after the second Monday-in-a-row.) Saturday will be spent with good friends and home cooked deliciousness. Sunday will be ticking a goal off my professional goals list for the year - join NECRWA. Internet wonkiness has combined with aformentioned meeting with writer friend to get me back into the meat of the current ms, and though perfectionism is bound to come trying to sneak in through the kitty door again, for now, it's off bothering someone else. Probably scared away by all the bad words hurled at high volume toward the blue screens of death.
Of course, after Sunday comes...you guessed it, the next Monday. We'll take that one when it gets here.