I should have seen this coming.
Last Thursday, I started back at work part-time. It's the perfect situation, or at least as close to it as I could ever possibly get. Working an average of 6 hours a day, leaving me enough time to write for a couple hours every morning after I drop the kids off from school, and still pick them up at a not-the-last-minute hour.
Awesome! Exciting! Except. The kids started at preschool a couple of weeks back. Any of you who have been through this are already nodding your heads, knowing what I'm going to say next.
See, when children start preschool at a new facility, they inevitably come home covered in germs from eyelash to toenail. Different germs for each of them, since they're all in different classrooms. And as soon as they walk in the doorway home, the germs scuttle off their disgusting, muddy, snotty little bodies, and invade your house.
Then they infect you. And make your life a living hell. The germ that picked me on Friday, and still hasn't left me alone, is a disgusting sinus cold. My throat's throbbing, I have a persistent low-grade fever, I'm dizzy, and I am blowing my nose so much it's chapped. A stomach virus picked David. The kids are sick too, and at least one of them keeps us up at all hours of the night. It's all we can do to get everyone dressed and pack lunches in the morning, and do the dinner-bathtime-and-bedtime rush at the end of the day. We're going on day 5 of sickness now and there's no way of telling when the germs will burn themselves out.
Between trying to keep myself and my work stuff kept up, with all these disgusting symptoms, my house and my general person is a disaster. You can imagine what ONE (the WiP) looks like. I think I've maybe gotten 1000 words down in the last two days, and those are pretty weak and possibly incoherent.
I know this stage of adjustment, both mental and physical, will pass. But for now, we're in survival mode.
Sweet readers, please regale me with tales of survival times you've gone through, and how you - and, obviously, your writing - have survived.