Took the kids to camp/preschool, went to coffeeshop, revised a few more scenes (about an hour of work), went to grocery store, walked back, put away dishes, and am now catching my breath before attacking the playroom disaster. Why is it a disaster? This is apparently what happens when mommy doesn't stick her head in here for a week. (Kevin's been doing bedtimes while I was dealing with chemo fatigue.)
I'd planned to leave it for the kids to deal with after school today, but our house cleaner is here today, so I think the children are going to get a nice treat, since if I spend two hours picking up all the mess and putting it away properly, the cleaner can actually do the floors. There is a logic to this, I swear. Somewhere.
