I decided to take a break from Slicing, and a month went by in the blink of an eye.
The week that I decided to take a break, I was drowning. I had been sick the weekend before with God-knows-what infection (tested negative for strep, flu, and COVID). I had to get better quick, because my son graduated from college the weekend after. In between, I had a Zoom author visit to host and end-of-semester library checkouts to manage, as well as the detective work involved in chasing down overdue books. I missed a fabulous monthly librarians' meeting on Monday (hadn't been fever-free for twenty-four hours yet), and spent three hours on sub plans for Friday, when we left for Denton to prepare for our son's 8a Saturday graduation.
So yeah, a Tuesday Slice wasn't a priority that week. Nor was it the week after, as I prepared for our read-aloud marathon and book giveaways and the usual end of semester chaos. Or the week after that, on Winter Break, when I was either zoning out on NORAD's Santa Tracking arcade games, Jacquie Lawson's beautiful Advent calendar, or cleaning in a mad rush to make the kids' rooms livable for their holiday return. (On a tangential note, have any of you empty nesters noticed your stuff spreading out into the no-longer-regularly-occupied bedrooms in your house?)
You would think the week after Christmas, I would have had something to write about. A Christmas memory, perhaps, or the cute antics of my new grandpuppy.
There were sweet moments, and we had a lovely family holiday. I was still too tired to write. But the nagging guilt was gently tugging at my conscience, to put my "butt-in-chair", as some of my favorite local authors refer to the physical act of placing oneself before a blank screen or page and have at it.
Which is what I've done this Monday evening. Nothing epic here, nothing particularly memorable...but I put my patookus in the office chair, my fingers on the keyboard, and words on the screen.