Well, what a strange week.

I had this week all planned out – in so far as I ever have a plan. I was going to blog on Monday about how my muse was like a giant amoeba, engulfing everything in its path and growing, growing, until it ATE MANHATTAN. (I’m not even sure where Manhattan is, but it sounds more glamourous than Manchester, and London would only give my poor amoeba a stomach ache.) Wednesday I would blog about something small, and on Friday I would post a short story that I originally wrote for the UK Meet anthology without looking at the submissions call, which turned out not to be right for that anthology in numerous ways. The rest of the time, I would write.

But then both my kids decided to be at home, ill, while I had two different hospital appointments at two different hospitals on two different days, plus a doctor’s appointment somewhere else on another day – all of which require an hour’s travel each way and three quarters of an hour sitting round in a waiting room. And this morning my husband reminded me that while the children are well enough to go back to school tomorrow, we’re going to the Reenactors’ Market that day – which is a full day trip.

So, I suspect that not much writing will be done this week. I should pat myself on the back that I managed any, I suppose. On previous occasions when I had the sick and ailing at home, I didn’t manage to set pixel to screen at all.

Still, the novella tentatively titled “Elf Princes’ Quest” has finally reached the point where the leads have survived an assassination attempt each (I had no idea Chris knew Kung Fu!) and are about to meet each other, so that should be fun when I can settle down to it next week. And the blog post can go to one of the numerous places I seem to have signed myself up to guest blog at.

Not that I’ve actually written it yet. Or any of the other ones. Argh! How do people blog and twitter and Facebook and write and juggle a job and children? Why can’t I?

*Does the headless giant chicken dance of stress.*