The Brewers drop two in a row to the Nationals (basically they played the worst team in baseball by acting as if they were the worst team in baseball) and yet I’m in this good of a mood this morning? That can only mean one thing. Since I’m not in love, I must be writing. I’ve been typing up the pages I wrote in the last week and decided to do more of that while I ate breakfast today. As I typed, one moment in the narrative jumped out at me as ideal for a little further character development. The writer in me woke up and all else faded from conciousness. Twenty-five minutes later, the tiny digital clock in the corner of the screen catches my eye and I realize I’m going to be late for work! Oops! It’s hard to scold myself being carried away when I was carried to exactly where I wanted to be… and wanted to stay.
Running Late
