My first day as a freelance writer. . .

Was a challenge. What else did I expect when writing assignments and household chores, and promises to get in shape all come crashing down on the head of a mom who finally has her youngest child safely in a school she likes, a lovely home in the country where it's quiet enough to write?
Pressure!
Oh, and did I mention the internet was on the fritz?!
Did I crumple into a pile of tears?
Reach for chocolate when I gave it up for Lent?
Yell and throw things at innocent dogs?
NO!!
I called my husband and yelled at him. . .
" help me fix the @#$% internet!"
Somebody musta been praying hard out there, he was able to help me reconnect it over the phone!! Hurray!!
Me, fixing a modem and a router when I first had to figure out which was which! Me, whom the tecchies on the helpline hung up on twice as impossible!
This is where I do the victory dance which embarrasses Isabella.

Thank you, Lord! I chalk it all up to making time for daily Mass this morning. See, it saves you time, because it keeps you from losing it, and being childish. At least in the morning.

Sadly, the rest of the day wasn't so smooth. I still have problems managing my time, with no living breathing boss over me. Maybe I shoulda gone to evening Mass too.
Read about it at the Mom Writer's Blog. The World's Worst Boss.