I took this week off work so I could write. I have a stack of unfinished stories, and a nonfiction book proposal to work on. Work has been eating my brain, so I’m not making much progress in the evenings, and weekends have been busy.
The best-laid plans of writers can be trumped by water flowing through the yard…
…past the front door…
…and into the basement.
That was Thursday.
My vacation has been entirely devoted to moving damp things out of the basement, scrubbing up mud, buckets of bleach, and a whole lot of soggy. It’s under control now: the house isn’t going to rot out from under me. There are only a couple of nooks left to deal with. Which is good, because I utterly couldn’t face it today. My back is sore from moving all the things (Nick’s shop: many containers of heavy metal items) and scrubbing everything left over. There are still streaks of silt on the floors, but overall the basement is cleaner and better-smelling than before it flooded.
Doesn’t do much for the writing, though.
I spent today working on other stuff: catching up on neglected email and volunteer duties, back-ups, etc. And loading photos onto the computer so I could blog things. Not the most exciting day, but it didn’t involve a single drop of bleach, so I’m content.
Sorry your writing week didn’t pan out.