That was my question to me about a week ago when I realized I’d fallen behind my own schedule. Plug your ears while I scream.

For the record I’ve cranked my timetable down in the draft stage so I have wiggle room later on. Now, knowing this and sticking with my own schedule have been two different things. I’m not a fast starter on stories–I know what I want, what the story needs, but the getting there is sloooow.

I’ve beat myself up trying too hard this time. I was thinking too hard too. I was defeating myself.

Yeah, that sounds stupid, but believe me I can overthink things. Sometimes I just need a kick to get me back on track. Sometimes I just have to sit down, close my eyes and type.

That’s what I did to crank out pages the past week. I typed without editing. And it worked–I’m where I should be with my second Presents right now, and I like what I’ve written.

So one big hurdle down. For now. 🙂

My mom used to say people who could shovel in all kinds of rich, fatty, greasy, and/or spicy food and never get sick had cast iron guts. I’ve known people like that too, but I’ve never seen a dog who could eat things that they shouldn’t consume and not puke all over creation.

Until I adopted Samson.

This dog defied logic the first week when he ate a houseplant that is supposedly toxic to animals. Sam farted, belched and went on his way, not even slowed down from his exuberant energetic self. And yes, I waited nervously, sure he’d get sick. (Ofcourse this happened on a weekend)

I’d placed this particular plant in a room and closed the door, but Sam can open lever doors–unless they’re locked. The hell of it is, all the doors in the house are levers, which means Sam pretty much does what he pleases. Thank God he’s housebroke!

Still, my plants in those early days…

Hear me sigh?

As Sam has matured (insert belly laugh) he’s devoured things both edible and not without a hitch. Yep, cast iron gut.

His latest chew toy? A jalepeno pepper from my garden. The wretch snitched a pepper off the vine, and had great fun chewing and tossing it around the patio.

I kept thinking the burn would get to him, but it didn’t. He’d bite it, toss it and run around the patio like his ass was on fire (which it probably was the next day. )

It was his game until he finally ate most of that pepper and tired of it, or maybe the burn got to him. Touch fire, ouch! Eat fire, whooza ouch!

Dunno, but he hasn’t ventured near the jalenpenos again. But he has helped himself to a tomato or two. And if I didn’t have so many cucumbers setting on, I’d fear for them.

Yep, Sam has a cast iron cut. Butcha know, I’d be happy to have his bladder endurance. 🙂