under the duvet

It seems like the summer is a big waiting game. I think I'm not appreciating each day as it comes. I've been living with schedules, and what's coming up thoughts. Such as: Men's wild at heart weekend, city chase, couple's weekend, our holidays at the cottage, our 8 year anniversary, when do we start trying to have another baby, the gaffer starting school ...etc.
I think I'm having a hard time just enjoying things. I mean, granted, it's been pretty hectic around here with getting ready for the men's trip with all the cooking and shopping and changing lists and adding people. And then getting ready for the Guelph trip and then getting rockstar hubby out of here today. And now I have all weekend to just hang out. But tomorrow is a 'me' day where I will learn the art of 'active voice' and then to a 'going-away' party for old friends. Then Saturday is a visit with Gigi and girls and Burb and girls and dinner. Sunday is church and ... waiting for rockstar hubby to come home. The front yard is finished (for now because I'm tired of working on it, and now it's time for maintenance and fertilizing), I have to finish my book...

(insert tangent here) I'm a little concerned about it actually. I tried working on it on Tuesday, trying to figure out how to make it active and I've changed the beginning.
(insert beginning here)

"Jackson doesn’t know it yet, but far away, yet closer than he thinks, is a little creature sighing in frustration.
This little creature is sighing because she has no idea what to do. This really isn’t a surprise in itself, especially if you know her.
The trap door is shut. Locked in fact. And it isn’t supposed to be locked. It is supposed to be unlocked and wide open. And this little creature was sent to unlock it and then open it, so it would no longer be locked, or unopened. But given that Meeka Sodo was just that kind of elf, given that she was who she was, she forgot the key.
So now here she is, standing at the top of a 30 foot high ladder, trying to open a locked trap door, with a fish."

Which I do like a lot more. I think it's intriguing and ridiculous. However ... I'm starting to doubt, and get frustrated and ... (in a whispered voice) think it won't be good enough.
There, I've said it. I'm usually pretty vain about my creativity but now...psshhhh. It's not like I think, "well, if so and so says no, then what do I do?". I'm not even there yet. Yet. I don't think I will be. See (insert vanity here) I've read some of the stuff out there and it's junk! I read a bit of local guy's book, about Sir Fartsalot and sure it's a funny name and the knight is rather old, but it's B-O-R-I-N-G! (insert local author contacting me and crying on the phone or leaving flaming poo bags on my front step)It's too complicated a story! And then there's the 'Diary of some kid who uses cartoon drawings to explain his life' and that too, is : D-U-L-L. I don't get it!? What am I missing? Am I expecting too many people to actually snort grape soda through their nose? Am I expecting the world to be full of people who 'get' Far Side? Am I expecting the world to almost pee themselves because they're having such a great laugh? (or sneeze? stupid useless baby muscles) Sigh. I know I've written a great book. But what if everyone else thinks it's crap? And who am I to trust? And what if (insert friends who are important writers & publishers & editors) think I'm crap? Will they tell me nicely or just stop subscribing to my blog?
Oh great. Now I've done it. She's here. The insecure lady with the blankets over her head is telling me to go upstairs and have a hot bath and start a recommended book (The Swallow - rec. by Andy) and feed bubbles to neurotic dog because I have two and a half hours before So You Think You Can Dance comes on. And I still have to make famous Tabbouleh salad (which is made with quinoa and no mint, so technically it's not longer Tabbouleh but I haven't made up a fab name for it yet) for tomorrow's going away party. And if I'm not home all day and then go to dinner, what will I do with neurotic dog? Sigh.
I'm going to lie in my cloud bed and hide under the duvet.

(Yes the cloud is lovely but I still have problems with solid sleep. I keep waking up expecting to be sore or stiff. Instead I sit up in bed and yell at gaffer not to touch electrical plug or tell dog not to eat bleach that I've spilled. Rockstar hubby wakes up and says 'huh?' and I wake up fully and say, 'Oh never mind'. I love sleep-talking)