Poor Mr. Cat

It’s Friday, finally, not that it’s been a restful one by any stretch of the imagination.

Half of this week was great, the other half was not so great.  I know I told you on Monday I planned to really dig my heels in and work hard on my writing.  For two of those days, my plan worked wonders and I wrote like a mad woman (a mad woman who wrote not only quantity, but quality).  As for the other two days, well, life got in the way again.

Some days it’s just so hard to focus.  I’ve had a smattering of other things demanding my concentration this week, which took some time away from writing.  Also, poor Mr. Remy the Cat, I had to take him to the vet this morning because I accidentally clunked his head on a doorknob while picking him up.  I cried a lot because I thought I’d given him a concussion.  He was a good kitty at the vet, until the doctor stuck a thermometer in a place that sounds clearly like a cat screaming and hissing (Rather violently, I might add.  The hissing, I mean, not the sticking of the thermometer.).

Fortunately, Mr. Cat does not have a concussion, and he’s acting normal, so I feel much better.  Much, much better.

Now, it’s off to Kansas to visit my husband’s family, and I wanted to squeeze in a post before we set out on our eight-hour drive.  We’ll be listening to some Ben Folds, some Regina Spektor, some Erin McCarley, and some Sandra McCracken on our drive.  And, hopefully, we’ll find several Starbucks stores on our way so we can have lattes, too.

Y’all have a great weekend.