Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration. Then again, maybe not.
Spring started out pleasant enough: I found myself unemployed against my will for the first time in more than 40 years in the work force; much of my neighborhood was terribly damaged in a tornado; and the weeds have overtaken my garden as never before.
The hellish part is my novel. It seems that when the creative juices flow and the novel is practically writing itself, every little detail of life gets in the way and prevents me from actually writing. When I have time to sit down and write, I struggle to find the right words, I write whole chapters that don't fit with the plot and have to be scrapped or my characters simply sit around chatting to no particular end. This may not sound like hell, but being that writer, in that moment, it begins to seem like The Twilight Zone. Perhaps you'd have to be there.
At the moment, I do have time to write, so I'd better get back to it before my phone begins to buzz with other distractions. Happy Cinco de Mayo!