Intentions, expectations, coffee…croissants.
I tell her I don’t want a croissant today and she makes a sad face. “Why?” I point to my tummy and she laughs. The next day I come in and she greets me warmly.
“Yes,” I answer.
Then a sly smile. “Croissant?” Saying no will make her pout again. And who am I kidding: the croissant in the morning isn’t what’s making me soft in the middle. So I laugh and say yes, and she claps happily.
Almost as soon as I began writing this blog my morning started becoming frustratingly erratic. Early work meetings rob me of my hour. I had a meeting yesterday, and have to report early on Thursday.
Then there’s the fact that I’m stuck in my story. So I come in and research, and by the time I’m done it’s time to go.
Oh, and I traveled to Uzbekistan for a week, during which time I was too busy–and too un-alone–to write well. (I did post pictures on Instragram. Check them out.)
Soon all that will pass, though. I have thirteen workings days left. I hope to be able to carve out time for myself afterwards. I’ll be unemployed for the summer and probably most of the fall and possibly most of the spring and maybe even the following summer. Who knows. I expect to fill in the time writing instead of mucking around on the Internet, watching videos of dogs doing strange things or researching minutae of my favorite records.
I mean, I should still have plenty of time for that, as long as I get my writing done first. Among my projects are to advance on this draft of Allegiance (the further adventures of Julian and Isabelle, and Tantibus); I also want to retype my play The Book of Lost Travelers, and hope to work out some of the kinks in the narrative that have always bothered me; and adapt my other play Little Nemo into a novel that is stripped of the Nemo references. And when possible tell some of the side-stories from Tantibus. I think Mr. Percy merits his own chapter, and probably Miss Annie, and Emily, and maybe even Ruthie Cohen. Little forays, I guess. Histories of the Winston and Edmonstone families would be nice, too.
And if nobody offers me croissants then I won’t have to eat them, I hope.