Last week was a terrible week. The 4 year old got sick on Tuesday night. At 11:30 p.m., while two steps from the toilet, he puked all over the bathroom floor. I almost lost it myself cleaning up the mess. Then, he was up several more times that night getting sick. Trust me, that kid is not a quiet puker. He wants the neighborhood to know he's sick. I had some head cold thing with an awful cough, so I couldn't sleep.
The 3 year old picked up the stomach bug over the weekend. I had a slight meltdown, all self-induced, because of some life changes that may or may not occur. On Saturday, while on the way to a birthday party, I was rear ended for the second time in six weeks. That's been an adventure. Seriously, the woman who hit me is certifiable and it has turned into a bigger ordeal that it ever should be. But I won't go into details right now.
However, through it all, I overcame my writer's block. The world could have been falling down around me, and I would have been content typing away. It felt so good. I accomplished something! I will finish the story! Life is fan-freaking-tastic!
There's something very calming about being able to maim and kill characters in the fictitious world. Keeps me grounded in the real one.