The Gambler

Know when to hold 'em:

I've got a cranky little teether this week who needs to be held between the hours of 11 pm and 2 am.  And 9 am and 10 am.  And 3 pm and 4 pm. And 6 and 9 pm.  You get the picture.  That's an awful lot of cuddling, and as frustrating as it can be (because I do have laundry, and work projects, and food to cook, etc.), my little guy isn't going to be little forever.  I'm trying to cherish him needing me before I'm "Mom" (said with rolled eyes).

Know when to fold 'em:

Laundry.  Right away while it's still warm.  Less wrinkles and, on cold days like to day, added warmth for chilly fingers.  I have a whole basketful I've been working on. 

Know when to walk away:

I'm not considering it abandonment...just a time out.  I was chugging along, happily plucking away on a manuscript (Code Name: Charcoal) when the words just stopped flowing.  It was an all-out keyboard fight to the 30K mark, and I wasn't feeling it.  I'm going to tentatively blame it on the holidays and the work projects I'm dealing with.  I'm trying to write a really evil, black-hearted character, and it's impossible to do after hours of chemistry and holiday music.  I don't have the mental capability to stick to early-19th century speech after crunching chemistry data for a few hours nor the will to create sheer wickedness while listening to Let it Snow and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.  So, I clicked save, tucked Code Name: Charcoal away, and went on my Merry Little Christmas way.

Know when to run:

For about 1.5 nanoseconds.  Enter Code Name: O'Twist.  Out of nowhere, I get this snippet of an idea.  Suddenly, my hands are flying over the keys and in almost no time, I've hit 3K words...without trying.  All of the struggle from Code Name: Charcoal has disappeared and the words make sense again.  So, I'm gonna run with it.  I'm really hoping that this isn't just a 5K short sprint, and that I can keep up the pace to make it a full-fledged 80K marathon. 

For those of you were looking for an exciting poker-laced story, I owe you an apology.  Kenny Roger's refrain stops having any similarity to my life where I've left off.  Although, come to think of it, I wish I could take the rest of his advice.  Oh, that there were heaps and heaps of money sitting on my table just begging to be counted.