My First week as a “Full-time” Writer

Got a call from a friend who asked me, “Hey, I heard you put Daniel in daycare to focus more on writing. How’s that going?”

I responded, “Cough, cough, hack, wheeze. Oh, just fine. Snort, hack, coughcoughcough.

Last week was the first ‘official’ week of Daniel’s daycare. It’s not much if you think about it: only Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9 to noon. Only six hours of freedom a week, but that’s a lot to this stay at home mom. What does a writer mama do with all that freedom? She writes, of course!

Unless her son decides to leave her a gift of a cold…

I dropped Daniel off on Tuesday and made it back home under a minute. I surveyed the house, gave a tiny cough, did some preliminary cleaning, then started on work. And I do have to say, for about 20 minutes, I seriously felt like I was at ‘work’ again. My fingers flew on the keyboard, my mind raced to keep up…and raced…and raced….

Whew! I think I need to take a nap.

Fifteen minutes later, I was up and typing again, chalking up my lapse of consciousness to the unbearable lightness of freedom. Around noon, I brought Daniel back, made lunch, played with him, put him down for a nap and got ready for some more writing, but first…cough, cough…a little nap..

Wednesday, we went to playgroup. I coughed a lot more then, figuring, Feh, what’s a little cough. Daniel had a cough last week, but then he was fine. I probably will be too. Cough, cough…

Thursday morning, my daycare person called. “Hi LaShawn, my older son’s home with a real bad cough. I wanted to give you the option to bring your son or not.”

“Ughh….COUGH, HACK, COUGH, SNORT! I think I better keep AAAAACHOO! Daniel home. He had a HACKHACKHACKCOUGH bad cold last week and COOOOOOUGH don’t wanna…get him sick again…”

Okay, how is it that little boy can shake off a cold, but it can lay Mama low for a few days? Talk about your occupational hazard. It was bad enough that I hardly wrote, but I did a bad mistake of posting something on a forum and getting mighty depressed over the responses I received. They were all good responses with helpful advice–I just weren’t ready to hear them in my addled state of mind.

Needless to say, my writing suffered.

My head is clearer now–at least it’s less stuffy. I’m surrounded by clouds of crumpled tissue, but I’m not knocked out for the count anymore. My emotional level is somewhat back to normal and I’m back to writing speed. And I’m ready to start my *ahem* full week of being a “full-time” writer.

Hey, if you don’t say anything, I won’t say anything either.