Ok, I knew better. It was tempting fate, but I charged right on in, just like I had good sense. Which, of course, I didn’t.
For my weekly post over on Southern Sizzle Romance, today I noted how well various aspects of my life were going – from the day job to the writing, from personal to professional, I was on top o’ things.
As the Good Book says, “pride goeth before awful.”. Or something like that. Anyway, today was a reminder that I needn’t get to thinking I have things under control.
At the office, my secretary was swearing to all the upper administrators that we didn’t know anything about some paperwork. Uh, yeah. Until she found it on my desk, where I had put it without telling her we’d ever received it, and promptly forgot all about it. Once again, note to self: don’t do ANYTHING without telling Ms. G. She is the one who actually runs the office and I need to let her do that.
Then to home, where I seemed to mess up everything I touched. I’ll just give you a few pertinent phrases: “14 year old daughter” – “black hair dye” – “maybe we should take her to a professional”. I’ll let your imagination fill in the rest.
And writing? What’s writing? If you think my muse, Bridget, she of the delicate nerves, is gonna show her face anywhere in the same time zone as the Great Miss Clairol Adventure of 2012, you haz a wrong.
So. Just this morning, I was all full of my delusions of grandeur. Tonight, I’m struggling to maintain my delusions of adequacy.
Cest la vie, mon amies. Mi vida loca. The giddy medley of extemporanea that is the life of a romance author.
And so to sleep, perchance to dream of Colin Firth. See y’all in the a.m.