(Photo Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons) My creativity is like a cask aged foaming, funky, sour Belgian beer. It’s unpredictable and “interesting and doesn’t suit everyone’s taste. That’s not what this post is about though.

Last night I had a bit of family drama. In a house with three kids, one of whom struggles with what we think is bi-polar disorder and the another of whom is on the autistic spectrum, this is nothing at all new. The only problem is this, it was my intention last night to finish a story last night. When this sort of drama rears its head, rather than this heady mixture pouring from the tap into a glass, it blows the bunghole (heh bunghole) from the cask. Beer spews everywhere, onto the floor and down the proverbial drain.

Not to abuse the metaphor even further, when this happens I spend the night cleaning up and nothing gets done. I’m left feeling aggravated, frustrated, and hopeless. An okay night’s sleep has recharged my batteries a bit, but I still hate the fact that I didn’t get the work done. I know I shouldn’t feel bad. I should just mount up on wings of eagles (why didn’t they just fly over Mount Doom and drop the ring in?) and overcome and all that happy horse hockey.

What do you do in these kind of situations?