Muddling Through the Middle

Trying to write 50,000 when life doesn’t go as envisioned


Writer’s note: If this post seems familiar, it was originally written and published on the evening of 12/14/22 on Substack. I wrote it in real time during NaNoWriMo 2022. I have since changed platforms for me email newsletter. (If that still interests you, you can sign-up for “Postcards” here.) However, in making future plans for my online writing spaces, I have decided to house my NaNoWriMo 2022 story here on Mrs. Writer. Very little changes, if any, have been made. Enjoy!


Week 2 // Days 8-14

Week 2 started off with a bang: I came home early from my part-time shift at the daycare with the stomach flu. No writing was completed the rest of that week until mid-day Saturday.

Ant stayed home with me on Day 9 because I was so weak the night of the 8th. I did okay that day and he returned to work the next day. I was able to sit up (after spending most of the prior two days reclining on the couch) in the pink rocking chair and binge-watched the rest of Season 1 and started Season 2 of Boy Meets World.

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Of Dice and Cats

Last Tuesday night I couldn’t sleep, so I got out of bed at 11 and wrote at my desk until I felt tired. I made very few corrections to this piece, just added connecting phrases that make it flow better.

I need to start remembering that June is a busy month for us. The weekend leading up Illuminate’s blog hop was Ant’s birthday-Father’s Day-Mom’s birthday-overnights all in one. SO. I missed the blog hop deadline, but the words are still worth sharing.


For whatever reason tonight is one of those nights where I am awake. My eyes are heavy and I feel tired. But I’m at my writing desk instead of sleeping. And so, instead of fighting it or watching Critical Role, I gave in and got up.

And I don’t know if it’s the words swirling around inside of me, wanting out, in ink, on paper, just out of my brain.

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These are the days // Volume 1, Issue 2

Memories for the days of 3/14 to 3/20.

The ones that are italicized represent what was happening a year ago this week, interspersed with the things favorite people on social media were saying.

I tend to do this with a lot things–I remember what happened a year ago on seemingly random days. This week in 2021 was a good week, healthy mentally and emotionally, spiritually and physically. We’re able to see people and hang out and it feels normal. This time last year wasn’t like that and I don’t want to forget what last year looked like in comparison, what we went through to get to where we are today.

These are the days…

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These are the Days: Volume 1, Issue 1

It’s dark and cloudy outside. NorCal’s expecting another storm tomorrow. I haven’t left the house all day (thanks new cycle) and the words are bubbling up, so let’s try this weekly reflection that Emily P. Freeman talks about and see how it goes for me. Memories from the week of Sunday, March 6th to yesterday, Saturday, March 13th.


These are the days of…

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Story Behind the Poem // day 12

Day 12 “healing”

our safe comfort zone / as often as we’ve been here / home has been healing

I took an unintentional break yesterday from poetry, as I’m training to cover one of the janitorial groups the company employs. I split my work day and wanted to write yesterday’s haiku then, but I was so tired. Monday I stayed up late reading and then writing a spontaneous blog post.

Also, yesterday’s prompt was a sad one, and I didn’t feel motivated to write more about missing hugs, home games of D&D, seeing my people and watching my babies (nieces, nephews, and goddaughter) grow up, and getting any slices of normalcy back.

So, I decided to skip it altogether and keep plugging along today.

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