If it's Friday, why does it still feel like Monday?

Yay! It’s Friday! But doggone it. It still feels like Monday.

For some reason, this week has flown by but I have very little to show for it. A migraine has been part of the problem; if I could just lie down and sleep for a few hours I might feel better. But Scout and Bandit – and Murphy, for that matter – are not cooperating. They all lie down and sleep, but the minute I sneak over to the couch and lie my head on the pillow, bam! They’re up and all over me.

And when I start to write? Murphy is all over the laptop. It’s not easy working with animals in the house. But I shouldn’t complain. I could be at a real job where they make me wear real clothes and do real work. I’ll take the dogs and cat. 

I realized today that the deadline for the Chicken Soup for the Soul book about dogs is Monday. I started writing stories back in March, when the deadline was March 31. When they extended the deadline, I went into procrastination mode.

So here I am on May 28 with no stories finished, a dozen in the works, and a headache that’s really not allowing me to write anything of worth.

Well, at least Bandit’s been blogging. He wrote another letter to Bo Obama today.

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