I am both proud of myself and a little let down. I only wrote one new chapter for my book this past week.
Maybe I should forgive myself?
My life is still being impacted by Hurricane Helene. A few days ago on Friday I saw my psychiatrist and got refill prescriptions for my medication. I assumed the scripts were sent over to the pharmacy as usual. When I went to pick up the refills early that evening however, the pharmacy was closed and there was a note on the door saying that their Internet was down and they couldn't fill prescriptions at all. I had gotten an automated text from the pharmacy several days earlier, saying the hurricane had knocked out their computers. I just assumed they would have been back in business already.
That was a wrong assumption on my part.
There was one med in particular that I was all out of. I was counting on getting the refill. And I needed that med.
It might have been a long shot but I drove to the emergency room of the nearby hospital and explained my situation to them. It was a very good idea, because a little less than an hour later they gave me an Rx for a "bridge" of the med I needed to get me through the next week. A quick visit to the CVS practically next door to the hospital later and I had my medication.
That emergency averted, I went home and plopped down and tried to write something, anything. Before I knew it I was working on a new chapter. It's the final one of part two, which covers a nine-years span of my life. I completed it last night. And there are going to be some edits and revisions but the basic endoskeleton is in place at least. I'm happy with it.
I'm going to try to write some more today, before my week begins in earnest and the opportunity to write before Saturday becomes diminished. I'm supplementing my typical work with a part-time job, it lets me engage with more personal projects on weeknights and long weekends. Maybe I'll get to knock something else out before returning to that job tomorrow.
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