I totally forgot that today is my day to post here. On the rare times that I remember, I get it done one or two or even three days earlier, and use the handy little scheduling tool to set it to post automatically.
But this time I forgot. Again.
I suffer from Writers’ Dementia. I forget things in real life on a regular basis. Second notice on a bill? Pick up the mail at the post office? Buy groceries? Oops. Forgot. Leave wet clothes in the washer for three days? Neglect to put out the trash three weeks running? Run an errand without realizing that my clothes don’t match and I haven’t combed my hair? That’s me.
And yet ask me a question about the hero and the heroine of my current work, and I can answer it without thinking. I know where they are, what they’re doing, what they’re feeling and thinking and what they’re gonna do in the next chapter. They never forget to pay a bill or schedule a vet appointment for their puppers or write a blog. I keep their lives — their lovely, problem-laden, complicated lives that DON’T EVEN EXIST ANYWHERE OUTSIDE MY HEAD — in perfect order while I can’t even tell you what day of the week it is in my own real world.
Hmm . . . I just realized what Sophy should have said to Sean when she saw him again for the first time. Better write that down before I get back to whatever the heck I was doing on whatever the heck day of the week it is.