Yay! I am back in Brooklyn.

More tomorrow.

The Eight Year-Old is back (reluctantly) to school, the Spouse is about as reluctantly back to work, and I am back to whatever passes for normal in my life.

Which means:

1. Stop eating. Just, like, stop already.

2. More exercise.

3. More writing.

4. Less hand-wringing.

5. Fewer neurotic “episodes” (as in, ‘why isn’t he/she getting back in touch? I know, he/she hates me!’)

6. More makeup. Stop looking like a Mom.

7. Less time-wasting. I’m talking to you, Bloglines!

8. More vegetables. I love veggies, but the pesky fridge keeps being too hot or too cold! Luckily, I have me a new fridge come March. Le bliss.

9. Just as much devout attention paid to Clive Owen (the hero for Road to Passion).

10. And an equal amount to Sean Bean (the hero of the next book)

So for a variety of reasons I am having a hard time staying motivated to get back on the stick, or the keyboard, and start writing again. Which means things won’t happen, because I haven’t done it, but I don’t want to do it because things aren’t happening.
I have my mom-lit to revise the ending of–yet again–and I do not want to [cue me stomping my feet and tossing my hair. Never cute even on a four year-old, but on a 43-y.o.? Pas de tout.]
I have Road to Passion to finish. I like this story a lot, but I have to print it all out, which means dragging the laptop out and balancing it on my knees while I figure out which version is the right one and then sorting the pages and feeding the printer and–ugh.
I have a romantica short story I’d like to start, but of course the previous two projects have prior claim.
I have no time because Back-to-School means Back-to-Normal-Brooklyn life, which requires laundry, grocery shopping, etc. Plus miscellaneous running around, which always takes longer.
Feh.
What can possible inspire me?

Oh, all right then. I’ll get back to work.

Back to life, back to reality
Back to the here and now–Soul II Soul, “Back To Life (However Do You Want Me)”

Back to school.
Back to writing.
Back to not eating ice cream.
Back to exercise.
Back to bill-juggling.
Back to sleep debt.
Back to someone [not me] despising the rigors of school.
Back to the messiest apartment in Brooklyn.
Back to you!