We had a dress inspection (gotta make sure we're all tickety-boo for when nothing happens),we had a practice earthquake session, and then our allotted time at the gym.
This REALLYcut into my writing time! I mean, really? Don't these people know I write fiction that doesn't get read by anyone? Lets have some priorities people!
But in the midst of all these shenanigans I got a scary call. My wife called in a panic. Seemed our youngest was trying to open the oven drawer and sliced his hand on a piece of loose metal. So I drove home as safely and quickly as I could.
He was fine, the cut shallow. I sewed a sock to a onesy to prevent him from pulling the band-aids off, calmed my wife down (she felt as though it were her fault, silly love), and tried to take the rest of the day easy.
Then I hit a kind of selfish low moment. I looked at how many hits my website had (8, day before 100), see if I had gained any more followers on twitter, and how many sales I had. They were all low or non-existent.
Then I slapped myself. I have an amazing family. If all my personal endeavors or hobbies take a hit, then that's what it costs. My families health, well being, and love are worth more than all the "twatters" and book sales.
Maybe I'll make it as a writer. Maybe I won't. I will be a successful husband and father. That's what's important.