Trying To Write In All the Wrong Head Space

 Scene: It's eight o'clock and time for my kids to go to bed. They turn off their video games and You Tubes as though they were on death row and it was time for them to make the long walk. They go to the
bathroom and brush their teeth and after I confirm for the five millionth time that my son is actually using toothpaste (what the hell is it with little boys and not wanting to do shit like this?) we get waters, my daughter takes her pill (chronic UTIs for the win... do people still say that? For the win? They don't, do they? I bet they don't.)

    After pills and waters, it's story time. But not yet, because everyone has to find their blankies, Cat-titos, and Corgos. Now, with stuffed animals and blankets and gathered and it's time for a story. We're reading
Matilda right now. We read a chapter... with frequent commentary from both kids on how Matilda's parents are garbage and how they are so confused as to why Miss. Trunchbull would work in a school if she hates kids so much. We make it through a chapter and of course both kids are all, "Noooooo! One more chapter!" Depending on the length of the next chapter I may or may not oblige. 

    After stories there are tuck ins, hugs, and if you're my daughter, a big long conversation about death, how one goes about getting their own apartment, and how she plans to never get married and just live with her pet beagle named Rosie. ... my daughter is six. 

    So at this point it's been an hour since bedtime began and now I have to go downstairs, sit in front of my computer and put myself in the headspace of a traumatized fifteen-year-old and her sentient android parent. 

    This is hard.

    This is hard because I worked a shift at the café that was utter pandemonium, I ran my ass off, made a nice chunk of change, came home, tided the house, got the kids their showers and then headlined the three ring circus that is bedtime. I am tired. I am tired and my mind is all, "Can I please just watch Bob's Burgers and eat a bowl full of Dot's pretzels?" But I don't. I sit down and open my computer and a have at it.  And sometimes, like tonight, good stuff happens. I get right into the correct headspace and
everything flows. Other nights I get nothing. 

    The last few nights I wasn't able to get anything really good down. I couldn't loosen my brain up enough. I've had a long week. It's nice out so that means the café has been super busy. That's not a complaint. The fact that we're starting to bounce back to normal, pre-'rona business is great. It just means I'm tired as fuck at the end of the day. Tonight I was just the right amount of tired, and focused, and with the aid of a glass of bourbon my brain was able to get some good stuff down. 

   Hopefully I'll be able to get some more quality work done tomorrow and wrap this story up. Once it's done that means it's time to start editing and putting Tales together. 

    I'm looking forward to that. 

    In the meantime, have an old drawing from 2011 of Paige, Anji, and Fer.