My son is home from school.
|Building has been banished to the garage.|
The problem I have with this is a) I don't know anything about building simple machines. I once built a mouse trap car for a physics class that only went backwards. b) I'm trying to work on an article query that I've so far spent two hours on. I blame the bajillion interruptions, but there's a small part of me that thinks perhaps the idea isn't that solid, meaning I need to find a new angle or new idea entirely. Cue crying. So I'm doing a post instead, because I ran out of ideas and angles, but I'm determined to be productive today since I ended up taking yesterday off.
This morning, I tried telling Husbear he was part of the reason my morning productivity was so low. He likes to chat before he heads out the door to work, unfortunately, this occurs right when my brain kicks in and I'm at my desk working on finding a job, finding clients, finding rainbows finding the things that will lead me to the life I'm pretty sure I'm meant to be living. A life where my work matters, my essays and blogs and writings are valued, and I actually get paid. He said that last night in his nightmares, he slayed demons for me, and that I could at least talk to him over coffee. This is why I never win. I don't think dreams should matter the next day, but it seemed to be today's theme, since Drama Girl woke up late, missed the bus and had to catch a later one because she had nightmares that made her not hear her alarm. Which is ridiculous because everyone in the house can hear her alarm. Maybe there's a giant dream monster roaming around messing people's mornings up, I don't know.
Bajillion and one interruptions. It sounds like the gear problem has been solved. He's going to be using a pulley system.