Some much-needed sugar to help the medicine go down

Some of you have been around catherinedix.com long enough to be familiar with the circumstances of my family's less than ideal (read as HIGHLY suck-assish) living arrangements. Some of you email me and occasionally phone me and know that Allan and I struggled with day care issues long enough to finally decide a few months ago that the babies should return to living with Allan in a city that has more day care options than Elvis does impersonators. Some of you ALSO know that every other week (this week, for example), I'm taking advantage of my alone time by putting in ten-hour days at my day job. And ten-hour nights at my night job... i.e. the writing job... And by so doing, I'm actively ignoring all things smelling of housework. Or fun, or relaxing, or tedious, or ADDICTIVE, for that matter. What the hell for you might ask? Easily put: I need to steadily continue chiseling away at this stump of a second novel I'm calling The Art of Avoiding Pain (oh the IRONY of that title, my friends!!). I'm doing this because we were all together as a large, happy, drunk-on-one-another's-company FAMILY this Labor Day weekend, which only served to refuel my running-on-fumes writer's gas tank. Which needs refueling very very often, if for no other reason than because I need more practice taking pictures of my children as a UNIT.








I swear that last paragraph made sense to somebody. Somewhere in the blogiverse.

ALSO. I got another book review. Imagine a nice margarita. And a back rub. Provided by none other than Johnny Depp. At your beach of choice. And yet that doesn't come close to how good my review was. Blog trolls and broken dishwashers couldn't wipe the smile from this face. I will share it in all its glory when I get official permission. Meanwhile, I have made Malin Alegria my deity of choice. And, at least for now, have declared sleep démodé.