All we are is Dust in the Wind

Once again I have trapped myself in an hourglass of time, grains of sand falling over my head, like they did for Jasmine in Walt Disney's Alladin.

It is Monday night, Anna is here and I am not visiting with her. I am quickly writing a token post (I am so sorry, Dear Reader!) and then to write a new installment in my "Amelia" novel for critique group tonight. Which, uh, meets in a little over an hour.

*&%()! I do this every week. Every Monday I am back here at the computer, frantically trying to type out something brilliant that I should've written last week.

Drat.

Wish me luck!