My Own Personal Grey

Dayfail

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The dog won’t leave me alone, wants to go “relieve,” but won’t go out into the rain. Trying to get her to use the “Potty Patch” but she won’t. Much crying whining and barking (some from the dog.) I give up. So I walk the dog in the pouring rain–or rather DRAG the dog up the dock to the nearest tree. Mission accomplished in seconds! Kat fairly soaked below mid-thigh due to boat-practical shortness of coat.

Return to news that furnace cannot be fixed until AFTER Thanksgiving. (Temps expected to hang in the low 40s this week and next–fearing the electric bill for the room heaters….) Ton of new appointments for Mom that I have to be chauffer for in Thanksgiving week. Feeling a little overwhelmed….

Dog continues to annoy until I give in and provide her with a stuffed bone (beef shank bone stuffed with some kind of goop and baked hard.) At this rate of appeasement, she’s going to weigh a short ton before this book is finished. She will no longer be a pit bull, but a pit barrel.

Sit down to attempt writing… New leak has developed over office chair. Stuff hatch with paper towels and curse a lot.

Oh! And going out tonight to look at a new (to me) car to replace my Camry before the front end dies.

*headdesk*

Word count? What’s that? Why aren’t I Richard Castle? I would wave my magic NYT-Bestseller wallet and all of this would be fixed! Curse you TV for raising my expectations as a writer! Curse you!

And oh yes, haha: rain stopped. But deck still leaking.

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