Dinner Death, It's Slowwww Going

The line that will follow me into hell is this: "What's for dinner?" It never ends. Day in, day out, some small person or tall person, girl or boy, man or, hell dog, will look at me with big brown eyes and ask what's for dinner. I'd love to answer with something creative, but the family will only eat certain things. (God forbid I make anything without meat in it and dare serve it as a main course.) I'm a big fan of easy meals. We had spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Last night we had Chinese food. Mostly, I'm scraping for whatever's left in the freezer because I'm putting off my other least favorite chore: no, not writing a dreaded synopsis, but grocery shopping.

Frankly, dinner and shopping annoy the crap out of me. Because I always rationalize that I could better be spending my time writing. Disregard the fact lately I've spent too much downtime reading and watching TV. I'm trying to relax my brain, get ready for a writer's conference, and prepare to write the last book in my Dawn Endeavor series.

Downtime is always a must for any writer. It doesn't have to be long, but some time spent not thinking about stories, but letting your brain rest and regroup. Then it's much easier to think of new adventures and new romances. At least for me. I'm just afraid that all this domestic crap I normally ignore (hello, dirty floors) is going to be the death of me. What's for dinner. Ech. Maybe it's time for me to invest in a pizzeria.

Happy Thursday, and cheers to good old take-out.