The saying about making plans…yeah, that really got me last year. I’d planned to publish at least two more books—a sequel to Her Sweet Alpha and another Bioexpa book.
And then we moved at the end of summer. Moving is stressful. I don’t recommend it. In our case, it seemed everything was destined to go wrong. The truck we’d rented was suddenly unavailable. My brother, who was the only person to volunteer to help us move, came down with Covid. At the time, I’d jokingly said, “Why does everything have to happen to me?” I realized the selfishness of this thought and giggled for a long time. (Thankfully, my brother was fine. He was vaccinated. After a visit with his doctor, he was well enough in a few days to be out mowing his grass while confined at home.)
I’m adjusting to our new environment. We’re in a one story now instead of two. The cat that used to fear our dog now harasses her whenever she’s hungry (which seems to be always). It’s just pure crazy. I admit the cat is overweight, but she’s no competition for an also overweight Newfoundland. My dog’s head is bigger than the entire cat, yet the cat will actually go after her as if she can win this fight. My Newfie usually turns her head or tries to get away. I’d film it, but I’m more concerned with breaking up the potential altercation. A well-placed leg usually does the trick.
I did get around to taking down my Facebook page. I was fed up with having to fight just to sign in. Writing has been slow going. I’m surrounded by family again. Which is lovely, but so very distracting.
This year’s plan is much the same as last year’s—finish the sequel and the Bioexpa book. Hopefully, this year will stick to the plan.
