The weekend is a blur. We spent most of the day Saturday working on the basement getting it ready for dry wall, which is next weekend’s big project. This went until late into the afternoon and I barely had time to shower before my best friend from high school, Joe Lacey, arrived. He’s in town from Brazil where he’s been living for the past eight years or so. Moments later, my brother Todd, his wife Stephanie, and their ninety-pound golden retriever Hobbes showed up. Athena was excited about this; Heineken (the cat) was not.

Amy cooked up a remarkable dinner and we talked and laughed and drank wine. Good wine, but a lot of it and I hadn’t eaten all day so I felt it quickly. We broke out Simpson’s Clue and Amy, as Smithers, won the game. For those of you wondering, it was Krusty the Clown, in the Kwik-E-Mart, with the Slingshot.

Everyone left town by 1:00 which gave us some time to decompress and get used to living with 150 lbs. of dog in the house. We’re watching cousin Hobbes while T&S are in Thailand on vacation. I felt groggy and out of sorts all day, but I did manage to crank out 1,700 words on “Ten Year Reunion” tonight.

End result? I can’t stand it. I always get to this point; I start out with an idea I think is good and once I start writing it seems like it might work. I get in a groove and I think it’s going to be a pretty good story but then there’s some sort of road block or detour and the story changes direction on me. I begin to think the story is not so good, the writing is not so good, and the whole thing is a disaster. I originally thought this was going to be a 1K word piece. It currently stands at just under 4800 and the last scene is yet to go. But I think it’ll end quickly. I won’t know how I feel about it until I give a once-over and a twice-over but then I’ll post it to our critique site and see what happens. At least it’s almost done.