The Best Laid Plans

This was going to be a special week. I was going revise my "complete" manuscript while also writing more of my work-in-progress. But then there was a torrential rain storm. With the sounds of a crash and a splash, my vacation writing plans shifted like the now-warped tabletop that fell to the floor of my basement. (The table was on the way out anyway, which is why it wasn't attached to its legs.)

These few words here are the only bits of quasi-creativity I've written all week. Dozens of diapers later, I've cleaned most of the basement and gotten the clothes dryer to work again. But it's Friday and my vacation is almost over.

There's a saying I've shared before that seems appropos here: How do you make God laugh? Tell him your plans for tomorrow.

So here goes:

Are you there, God? It's me, Matt.

First, thanks for the sunshine. It's a fair sight better than the frigging ark weather you laid down on us last week, but I don't want to sound ungrateful. Now, I need to do a couple errands before the whole shebang collapses around me — milk for the wife, diapers for me, maybe some scotch for the cats... And then I'd like to actually put some writing time in. But if that's not to be, as Kurt Vonnegut said, "So it goes."

I've still got a great family and this sun of yours is supposed to keep burning brightly in the sky for most of the weekend. And as long as my guardian angel hasn't been downsized due to the economic doldrums that seem to be affecting everything, can you remind him or her that I need to avoid the spring bloom of potholes in the road if I actually get a chance to jog.

Thanks again, God.

Oh yeah, Live long and prosper.

Matt

What, you didn't know God was a Vulcan?