That didn’t really happen, right?

Something horrendous happened to me this morning.  And I’m talking, gut wrenching, tear pulling, item throwing horrible.  I’d left my hard copy’s (the only copy’s I have due to computer death) in boxes on the floor and went to the bathroom.  Harmless sounding, right, until you add in a Toddler to the mix.  Yes a very hands on help mommy Toddler.

I hadn’t even been gone for 5 minutes and she had my books (three of them with at least 3 drafts each in both hand written and typed pages plus notes and starters for about 10 others) tossed all over the house.  I just now managed to gather them all up with little, but no, paper tearing.  It’s going to take me days to sort though all the pages and put them back in order.  Right about now I’m wishing I had the foresight to label each page with which draft and novel it was.  But oh no, that would have been the wise thing to do.

I think I’m going to be sick.

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About adsimons

I'm about to embark on the wonder journey of publishing. Come join me as I struggle to get it right, land an agent and get published. All while raising my daughter alone and fighting just to keep my head over water.
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