Seized by the day

I've been thinking about that phrase: Seize the day! I've been thinking about it because it feels, sometimes, that the day has seized me, and not the other way round. What to do when a day is holding you hostage?

Do you know what I mean?

Yesterday was just such a day. I started with some good seizing of the moment, my alarm pattering at 5:15, in the pool swimming laps (with friends) by 5:45, enjoying a fantastic strong hour of back and forthing, working lungs and arms and legs. And then home, quickly, so my big kids and their dad could seize the day themselves. They headed off to the pool, and I made breakfast and supper, and everyone was eating porridge and eggs, awake and happy by 8am. What a great start to a Monday, one might have congratulated oneself.

And then, down came Monday. A load of lumber arrived. A pneumatic digging machine. A bunch of beefy guys (I've got to work beefy guys into my posts more often). Work on the porch footings began. The sun was shining. And suddenly, work came to a halt. I heard it, just like that. An abrupt stop. Unfortunate silence. And, after a couple of beats in time, someone hammering on the door.

This can't be good, thought I.

It wasn't. Soon, we had water in the basement, a busted pipe that couldn't be stopped until the City showed up to stop it, and everyone on my front lawn looked very anxious indeed, and some came down to the basement to haul out rugs and move furniture and wield mops and apologize profusely while I felt like apologizing for the already disastrous state of our basement (do the kids really need to leave their socks EVERYWHERE?)

So ... that was my yesterday. I was thankful to have gotten supper prepared before we had no water. I spent the day running up and down stairs to consult with various professionals, while trying to work. This is my writing day??? Thankfully, water was restored just before the kids arrived home from school, two friends in tow, hungry, tired, thirsty, and needing the bathroom.

Writing day and basement-flooding-day was over, and feeding-children-in-a-rush-at-a-ridiculously-early-hour began immediately thereafter. Just after 5pm, me plus three girls pulled out of the driveway to pick up more girls, off to theatre rehearsal. And then Fooey and I went on to her first Highland dance class (tell me she isn't going to make a perfect little Scottish dancer!). And then I came home and ate supper. Realizing by the hole in my gut that I'd forgotten, in the rushing up and down stairs, to eat lunch. Good grief. It was time to pick Fooey up. Time to clean up from supper. Time to supervise homework. Time, please dear God, to go to bed.

And there I was, lights out, 9:40pm. Seized by the day, shaken and hauled off, and quite at the mercy of it. Just doing my best to stay calm and carry on.


But good news arrived this morning, just a few moments ago, in fact. I've received, from my editor, THE FINAL DRAFT of The Juliet Stories. Did you read that correctly? Yes. The final draft. I shall be called upon no more to revamp these stories. They are done. (Well, the copy editing stage remains. But.) Juliet is ready to roll. Not sure where this fits into the seize/seizing equation. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe on the rare occasion one gets to sit back and go ahhhhhhhh. And take a little moment to settle into the knowledge that something big has been completed. That was a whole lot of seizing, folks. A whole lot.

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