Much to my chagrin, I doubt I'll be ready to submit anything to the Nicholl this year. (cue the waaaahmbulance) My online business (going well, by the way), family stuff (mother moved here from Michigan, needed help house hunting, needed me to put a wedding together for her), and misc bizarre things (father's house burning down, locating my long lost brother) seem to keep getting taking priority over the career I refuse to accept will never be.
Is my minimal writing time some form of kismet? Naw. Just poor time management and a laptop that's suffering a slow and painful death.
Writing today. By hand. Laptop taking a sick day and screenwriting software not on my desktop. Phone off. Not answering the door. Not running errands (hope the water bill is paid cuz my boys flush a LOT of toilets) and not braving the Walmart crowd to put food in the house (there's peanut butter, boys, you are NOT starving). I can't go to the store. CAN'T, I tell you. I'd run into a dozen people I know, it would take an hour and forty five minutes to buy bread and those Girl Scouts are stalking me with their doe eyes and overpriced cookies!
You can't make me.
How do you spell "famelicose"? No, I didn't mean "fallaciloquence".
They are TOO real words! Look them up. I dare ya.