As I type this there's a robin shivering on a snow-coated branch outside my window. I know he's thinking WTF? right now, just like me. (It could be a girl robin wondering WTF?, I honestly have no way of knowing.) Less than two days ago I was ensconced in lovely Dayton, Ohio where the weather was balmy and fellow writers swarmed around me full of ideas and encouragement. I came home to a desk at work overflowing with tests to grade (because giving kids a test while I was out of town seemed like a real good idea at the time--an essay test--I blame the sinus infection for my poor judgement) and laundry baskets at home overflowing with dirty clothes. You know how it is, between the offspring and the housecleaning and the miscellaneous errand-running and a 40-hour work week. In normal circumstances it's somewhat manageable.
But I dare not kvetch. That Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop was an amazing blessing. Nevermind that 3 inches of snow coat my front yard and I was late to work because I forgot my keys and I need an oil change before I stack another thousand miles on the Momvan this weekend for Easter at my parents'.
I feel like that robin looking around at the whole mess, trying to figure out where to find a twig under a blanket of snow and slush in order to build a nest. That's a metaphor for having a lot I'd like to write about, but lacking the time to gather the words because life has me temporarily smothered.
I promise I will tell you all about meeting Cha Cha and the workshop and all the juicy bits in between, but there's a fight breaking out above my head and according to the timer in the kitchen, dinner's ready. I'll leave you with this one bit of awesomeness: each writer at the workshop got a complementary wine glass and that, my friends, gives you an idea of how much we should all love Erma Bomeck.