You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.
– Maya Angelou
The wind is loud around the house, sweeping through the narrow alley between our set of homes and the next. It’s gonna be chilly, and I’m not particularly looking forward to such weather right now. But it’s better than snow, and it’s better than sweating in February, so as long as I don’t catch another cold, I suppose I’m all good with it.
I wrote less than I wanted, but more than usual yesterday at 755 fiction words, 1,155 total. No freewriting, because what I thought might just be brain dump ended up being 396 usable fiction words, and I don’t want to double count. My daily fiction average is headed back in the right direction (up) after six days in the wrong direction (down), landing at 476.
All is well. Yesterday was stormy and rainy, but I was able to wait out the worst of the storms in my car and at the funeral home. It seems the person whose life we celebrated loved a good thunderstorm, so it was appropriate and welcome. There was only a tiny hiccup at the office, which I now have a tool to use the next time it occurs. I am armed. Heh.