Life… don’t talk to me about life.

My daughter turned 5 last week.  Other than that, life’s been pretty much a constant stream of “Get up; go to work; attempt to teach apathetic teenagers their own language, as well as logic, how to construct an argument, how to write effectively, and now, thanks to budget cuts, how to use a computer; pick child up from school, feed her, greet the wife, have dinner, spend two to three hours attempting to get the child to sleep, watch one show, go to bed, repeat.”

Very little time to write.  Very little time to think.  And every time somone says “If you want to write, just make yourself do it,” I want to punch them.  I’d gladly give up the one TV show I manage to watch per night if I could actually write during that time, but I’ve tried, and nothing good happens.  

Anyway, enough whining.  Back to work.