I am alone. For the moment. The quiet in my house is near deafening - except for the dog. This is odd to me (not the dog). Usually I am surrounding by chaos that is hard to explain and the noise level has got to be at illegal volumes. But none of that matters for the next few minutes while I am blissfully alone.
Tomorrow is my baby boy's fifteenth birthday. I'm not sure how he got to be that old. And in high school. I clearly remember his little blond head and his spiderman undies. Now he's talking about college and girls and all kinds of things I'm not ready for.
There is a mosquito flying around me. Shouldn't they be dead now?
On the writing front, I am settling on what to write next. And, of course, instead of grabbing a perfectly good idea out of my idea folder, it's something brand spanking new. I'm getting excited. It's been a while since I've put fresh words on the page. I've missed it. I will finish the zombie book at some point, just not now. I need to start it completely over and at this moment, I'm not that passionate about it. (This decision is subject to change without warning - just saying) This new book is coming together in my mind. Which is good, because there for a while I truly thought my brain was broken. Really broken. Apparently, what I needed was some time off...
By the way, today was markedly better than yesterday. Which is good because if today had been the same, you'd find me rocking in a corner somewhere.
Tomorrow night is trick or treat night/birthday celebrating, following by more birthday celebrating the following night and new Supernatural.
That is all...