I’ve reached Chapter 8. I no longer feel frustrated, no longer fighting the urge to throw the manuscript in the trash. Just as I was getting my creative juices flowing this morning, my husband announces that he’s going to throw the breakers so he can install a ceiling fan in my oldest’s room as well as track lighting in the family room. Turn the computer off, he says. This was at 9am. It’s now almost 6pm, but that’s okay. He’s Tim Taylor, only without the black cloud of doom and destruction. I miss that show.

Now, I’m back at the keyboard and will start plowing through this chapter.

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