Expectations. We all have them. I’m a relentless optimist, so on a daily basis, my expectations look something like this:

I awaken to birdsong and bound from bed, energized for the impending day. I eat a healthy breakfast and go for a run. After a shower, I sit down at my computer. Reviewing the prior day’s work, I’m pleased to discover there are no errors or revisions needed. I craft 4,000 new words, glance at the clock, and realize it’s time for lunch.

After a fortifying repast, I turn to the business of writing. I spend a mere thirty minutes reaching out to friends and family on social media—not once getting distracted by cute kitten gifs or scuba memes. I’ll write my next blog post (early!), update my expense sheet (why wait for tax season?), and remember to drink my eight glasses of water (evenly spaced throughout the day).

My housekeeper (when did I get a housekeeper?) has the house shipshape, so business complete, I spend the next few hours enjoying a book from my to-read pile.

Winding down for the evening, I’ll chill some wine, prep a delightful dinner to share with my husband, and binge-watch the last season of Game of Thrones (before it is released to the masses).

Ah, expectations.

Mer is less optimistic but more organized than I am. Making lists helps her clarify her thoughts. I haven’t seen her do it yet, but I bet she can build a mean spreadsheet.  As an academic, Mer craves structure. She’s meticulous with detail and always has a plan.

Life scoffs at us both.

Chapter 12 ~
Ten o’clock in the morning, and already her day wasn’t turning out as planned.



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