wherever you go...

So, I'm here, in my cinder block cell. Unpacked and ready to tackle the empress, and who should show up but my ex-husband and my son, who were in town for the day.

Oh, the irony, right? The one week without Carson, instead of staying home the whole time and barricading myself in my office, I drive 160 miles to this motel and I'm here 5 minutes before turning into "mom."

But here's the thing. If he hadn't shown up, I would have spent the first hour talking to him on the phone and wondering if he's bathed (he has a broken arm, so hygiene actually is a challenge), or done his math the right way, etc. To spare me dark fantasies of doom, he came tumbling forth, backpack, filth and all, so I could administer my "mom" tools, and send him packing down the road.

So now, I have no excuse. There's nobody watching basketball within earshot, I've had my microwaved soup, and there will be no whiskey until I've worked through three more chapters.

Tune in tomorrow--for now, I'm leaving the Internet! (Well, unless I need to do manuscript-related research or something...)