I haven't written in weeks. How many? Three...maybe four. I'm not really sure.
After Kristina (yes, the same one that's an A2A girl) sold her house, my hubby & I thought, "Hey, maybe it would work for us too." So we called Kristina's realtor (yes, we know each other IRL) and he managed to sell our house the first day it was on the market. Best part? Cash deal. Worst? We had to be out in two weeks.
We built that house and lived there for nearly 11 years. Packing up in two weeks meant suspending everything else in my life to get it done. You may remember that my husband had a double spinal fusion back in February and he's on BLT (bending, lifting, twisting) restriction until the end of August. The heavy lifting was, quite literally, solely on my shoulders.
In the process, I managed to break a finger and a toe. Yes, I am that talented.
In the midst of packing, we chose a new house, but can't move in until July 5th. So now we're adrift, homeless in a sense. With the majority of our belongings in storage (including 40 boxes of books), we're living out of bags. Some nights we're in hotels; others we're on my parents' farm - more than an hour away from our work, friends, and activities.
At first it was glorious. I was happy to just live moment-to-moment. I didn't even miss writing. Which both pleased and upset me. Pleased because my computer was packed up and typing on my iPad is a PITA, but upset because I worried that maybe my writing mojo had disappeared. That's a disturbing prospect for any writer. I decided not to push it. No pressure. Que sera, sera.
This week my husband jetted off to Pennsylvania for work. The kids & I have spent the whole week at my parents' farm. Even though there's plenty to do, I started to feel that familiar itch. I took copious amounts of notes on my iPhone. The plot for my next fantasy is coming together quickly. It's expanding faster than I can barely keep track of.
The writing isn't gone. It only went dormant. I didn't have time to write anyway with the move, but now that I'm close to moving into a new house (hopefully our forever house) I'm dying to get back to work. I want to tell this story. I'm desperate to tell it.
And, really, isn't that the best feeling in the world?!
Megg, Miss Enchanted ePubber