It's been almost a week since the kick-off November's National Novel Writing Month, better known as NANO. The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel in one month, roughly translating to 1700-words per day.
It's six days in--how am I holding up?
Driving to Asheville today, Blair at the wheel. The conversation turns (as it always does) to what he has to put up with, being married to me, and how I suspect people pity him on the sly.
"Admit it," I said. "People are probably walking up to you going, 'You poor man. Here's a dollar. Why don't you buy yourself a coffee and at least get out of the house for a bit?'"
"Nah," Blair drawled in his North Carolina accent. "You forget we live in the Bible belt, sugah. What they usually say is, "We're praying the Lord calls one of you home, son, so you can be released from your pain."
Almost threw up on myself, laughing. True story.
Cheers,
Dena
Our dishwasher has been leaking sporadically for almost 6 months and finally gave up the ghost this last week, spewing suds out from underneath our kitchen cabinets. We ordered a new dishwasher from Home Depot which was to be delivered this past Thursday. Didn't happen. Received a call saying shipment was delayed and the dishwasher would be here this coming Tuesday.
This means we must--gasp!--wash dishes by hand until then. What's a princess to do? Eat out a lot, is my thought. But there's no escaping the early morning coffee mugs, plates for toast, cereal bowls, omelet pans, and this brief lack-of-dishwasher interlude has uncovered the fact that I use an alarming number of spoons.
We used to wash dishes by hand when I was a kid so I'm no stranger to manual labor (snort), but having gone years and years without sticking my hands in sudsy water, it's no fun going back.
Or at least, I think it wouldn't be. So far, Blair has beaten me to the sink and taken care of all dishwashing duties. He's handy that way. And wise. He'd rather wash dishes for 5 minutes then listen to me spend an hour gripping about stupid Home Depot, and stupid delivery people, and stupid dirty dishes piling up in the sink...
God help me if our washing machine or clothes dryer ever goes on the fritz. Scrubbing clothes by hand and hanging them out to dry? Sooooo not the life of a pampered princess. ;)
Now--go hug all your appliances and tell them, "Thank you."
Cheers,
Dena
sd
Author. Humorist. Fitness fanatic. Control freak (working on it). Mentor. Klutz. All-around decent human being.
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