I”ve been staring at the other half of my beloved bagel; but my body says “No more.” Wrapped in a blanket in front of my monitor, I sit coughing on the keys. As a matter-of-fact you might want to wipe down your own keyboard, just incase this bug has traveled though the spindly filaments of the web to your fingers. Maybe some more herbal tea will help…
Seriously, though I work from home (mostly) I still need to work when I’m sick. Just like everyone else. I have a goal and if I don’t reach it The Jar of Shame looms in the back of my mind. What is this Jar that grips me in such fear? It’s the rainbow tissue-papered jar with frills and lace that demands a dollar if I don’t meet my goals.
“A dollar?” You might say. “That’s all?” Well, yeah. But the smiling faces of my friends as I put that dollar in are more of the deterrent. You see, The Jar of Shame lives at Sassy Scribes, my beloved critique group. At the end of each meeting we set a goal, and if we don’t meet even a tiny part of that goal we must deposit the dollar. And my goal this month? Well, lets just say it’s a little lofty. But if I make it, I feel I will have moved forward a little more, instead of letting this cold hold me down. No, irritating chest cough, you will not win this time! *Gulping down more herbal tea.*
Have a great Monday.
Shelley Martin Fiction 