(Don't get too excited, unfortunately this post has nothing to do with the famed Pink Floyd song whose song title I borrowed.)
I allow myself 1 hour of writing time per day, usually during Sophie's "nap" time. Most of my writing amounts to nothing, which has been troubling for me at times, but for the most part is understandable. As I "write" now, for instance, my lovely daughter (who's supposed to be napping) is yelling at the top of her lungs,
Are you there?
Is there anybody out there?
I need help!
Are you watching the weather? (As if...)
Granted, she is not yelling out of anger, rather, she finds this quite humorous. I do, too, to a certain extent, but I swear right here and now NEVER to get down on myself again for writing something disjointed, incoherent, or downright lousy. Who can concentrate with all of this noise?! It is no wonder my mind is only flooded with good ideas when I'm lying in bed at night... it's the only time I get any peace and quiet.
"Mommy, mommy, MOMMY!!!"