I would say that I get one solid hour of stress-free, uninterrupted writing time per week. That doesn’t mean I only write during that one hour; it only means that I don’t have seven other things cooking simultaneously. I can’t tell you how much I love this time. My daughter throws back handsprings. I type. Hard and fast. Generates a lot of curious stares. Sometimes a few comments.
Yesterday was no exception. I churned out pages and pages of backstory. Smiling, sighing, giggling, clapping. It was a super-productive tumbling class. But instead of celebrating the completion of a very challenging storyline once I got home, I nearly had a coronary.
My laptop was gone. Not in the car, not in the house. Not ANYWHERE.
My heart literally stopped for a few seconds…until I called Justice and found out I left it in the fitting room. As an aside, I never leave my laptop on the car because I’m afraid someone will break in and steal it. Ironic, huh?
I haven’t fully recovered…the palpitations have slowed but I’m still reeling. Even three glasses of wine did nothing to settle my nerves. I should have opted for the vodka.