Making my brain hurt while my husband pisses off the neighbors.

I’ve been on the computer all morning, checking stats and number of readers and clicks and adding books to Goodreads and finding people who review YA novels for free.  Phew.  My brain is bleeding.  While I’ve been doing that, the kids have turned the playroom/ my office  into a raccoon nest of Hot Wheels, plastic foodstuffs, Playmobil sets, chair cushions, musical instruments, and various books.  Guess I know what I’ll be doing later when they go off to Mamaw and Papaw’s.

Back to the brain pain.  I have an addictive personality and I think I have transferred my previous love of smoking to “checking” things repeatedly on the computer.  Facebook, Amazon, Smashwords, Scribd, Youpublish, Twitter, WordPress, Webs, Goodreads, I’ve looked at all of these sites multiple times this morning.  And those are all mostly Glimpse related!  I have also looked at Smart Bitches, EW, Celebrity Baby Blog, and the Poop parenting blog.  See why my brain aches?

While I was doing this, my husband decided to exact revenge on our neighbors by mowing the lawn and weed whacking at 8 am.  No, he’s not just being an asshole, pretty much all of our neighbors majorly suck.  On one side we have the neighbors that do nothing to take care of their house, the windows are all covered with mold and they never paid the rest of their half of our shared fence bill.  On the other side we have this stuck up chick that works at Nike and thinks it’s perfectly fine to let her dog’s poop in our yard, to leave them outside barking incessantly for 4 hours straight-when she’s at home, and to wind her outdoor parties up at 2 am.  Kitty corner we have the swingers who own 6 yippy dogs and stole our house color and next to them are the jerk-off  Jet ski, boat, big ass truck, but also a statue of buddha in the yard, aging hipsters.  The people across the street from us are cool and I’ve never seen the people who live in the house kitty cornered the other way-but the school bus stops there, so it must be inhabited.

So, last night stuck up Nike chick had a party and put the dogs outside so that they wouldn’t disturb her awesome guests.  Okay, we’ve got dogs and I can understand putting them outside for a bit, but we’ve all also got garages and that’s where the dogs should go so they don’t annoy everyone on earth for 4 hours straight.  At quarter to 10 hubs goes over and rings the doorbell and knocks and no one answers it-probably because they can’t hear over the barking dogs and loud music and super cool drunken conversation.  Then the door to her house opens and hubs calls inside.  Still no reply.  He ventures in and one of the party guests tracks down our neighbor to talk to him.  He asks her nicely if she can bring her dogs inside because they’ve been barking for 4 hours.  She says, “They just want to come inside, that’s why they’re barking.”  Wha?  Hubs doesn’t know what to say to this exactly, but neighbor gets the hint and brings the dogs inside…and moves the party outside.  Now, instead of yapping dogs, we get to hear drunk hipsters regaling each other with stories from their trips to Cabo.  Choice.

Hubs gets up early, comes into the kitchen where the kids and I are eating breakfast, and the first thing I suggest he do is mow the lawn at 8.  We giggle in total agreement.

What does any of this have to do with writing?  Nothing, it’s more about what my world is like and how I fit writing into that.  I’m tired, I’ve been obsessively searching the internet all morning,  I have a mess to clean up, and several neighbors are probably going to burn my house down today, but I’ll still make time to work on *Glimmer* because I want to, I think that’s the way most writers are.

2 thoughts

  1. It’s always good to replace one obsessive habit with another. And checking the computer probably won’t kill you. 🙂

  2. Totally cracking up about the neighbors. I mean, it’s awful, but the way you wrote about it made me laugh. I could write a 500 page novel about dog poop and the people who let their dogs poop anywhere. This all stems from my 18 month old baby girl crawling through a tunnel at the playground and splatting face first in dog crap. All over her mouth, in her mouth, she gets sick.

    Stuck up Nike chick–yikes. Love that your hubby was out there mowing the lawn so early. And the other neighbors should have definitely asked before they stole your house color. 🙂

    You rock.

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