I know it's feeble, but we've only been back from holiday a week and a half, and I already need another break. Thank goodness it's a Bank Holiday weekend. I have been feeling unaccountably stressed over the last week, which is not a good way to feel.
The children are flagging too - one of the boys has a cold and a nasty sounding cough, the other just seems shattered. The girls are better, in good spirits - both have recently had birthdays, which helps. And Paul is looking well - in the last few months I have begun to force him out to walk the dogs in the evenings when he gets back from work, and he admitted tonight that the exercise is doing him good.
What else can I report? My house is super-clean, thanks to an outside agent. Book sales are still up - the only drawback there is that I have been checking the sales figures on Amazon far too often. Like a woman possessed, in fact. Which leaves less time for writing, which I think is why I am stressed. I know I need to chill out about how much I write though. I am coming to the conclusion that writers, like fields, need fallow periods. I have had a very fertile time recently (in a writerly way...)
And I did write about one and a half thousand words today, so I am making progress. After the long weekend I am going to plunge right back in again. With a new rule in place - no internet until I have reached my word goal each day.
There, I have a plan. Sorted!
Happy Bank Holiday, those in the UK. And have a lovely weekend, everyone else.
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