Confessions of a Wannabe

My alarm screams and I jump out of the bed confused, mussed, and tired. What day is it? Is it bad that I'm not sure which day of the week it is? I slap my hand on the alarm willing it to cease and desist its shriek. Scratching my head and swiping a hand over my face, I make my body stand and walk towards my daughters bedroom. "Time to get up darlin." I hear a muffled hmmf and go to the bathroom for my morning toiletries. What day is it? Did I figure that out yet? Finishing up in the bathroom, I shuffle down stairs and let the new little black kitten we adopted out of the bathroom. Loud complaining mews greet me as I look down to see his cute face staring up at me. Scooping him up into my arms, I stifle a yawn and sit at my computer checking email. Salem, the six week old kitten purrs loudly, happy he's not trapped in the bathroom any more. I would leave him loose, but with a dog and a cat that we've had for years not happily accepting of his presence I figured for his own safety he'd less likely be eaten if I kept him locked up while I was sleeping. After scrolling through countless emails, I make a few notes on my "to do" list and sit a moment longer. I still need to finish my proposal for the YA anthology I want to be in. I still need to do my homework for college this week, as well as start on the reflective paper draft due Monday. Did I ever decide what day it is yet? Writing is a pure joy, but it's not always easy to organize my thoughts. A moment in the daily life of a writer isn't glamorous and full of hunky heroes. It's just a life.