For as long as I can remember, rain has ruined my life. Birthdays. Halloweens. Real holidays, like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Arbor Day. What the hell, rain?
It rained when I went to go get my hair done for prom.
It has rained almost every time I’ve wanted to go to Six Flags (that’s a theme park, my non-American pals).
It rained the days leading up to my wedding so the ground was all squishy and my heels got stuck while we took pictures.
It has rained out beach days and barbecues.
It has rained whenever I’ve gotten my hair done, turning me into a troll doll.
It even rains whenever I need to do laundry, which can only be accessed from outside.
Don’t tell me about flowers and crap either. I am NOT a flower. I don’t give a damn. When I’m thirsty I grab a bottle of Poland Spring from the fridge. Besides, it’s winter. There are no damn flowers!
Right now, the rain is once again rearing its damp, dreary head. My prequel novella, Blood in the Past, goes to the editor in 15 days. It’s been raining for like the last week. Soggy, slushy, stupid rain. I can’t work when it’s raining. I just want to cuddle up on the couch, eat soup, and watch television. Or snuggle up in bed with my Kindle. I have no desire to be creative. Who can be creative when everything is so dull and grey?
You guys can, can’t you? I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it in the Comments Section. Like, how you can just put on a comfy T-shirt, pull some journals out of a tote bag, write it them with some brand new pens, and cheerily eat chocolate. By the way, if you find yourself in need of these materials, you should probably enter my giveaway where I’m including all these things as part of the grand prize. All you have to do is help me name my debut psych thriller series.
Because, once the sun comes out, it’s back to writing.