Senseless Sunday Sarcasm : Starting over
I wrote a post this morning, but it isn’t funny, so I have to start over.
Again, I’m staring at a blank screen…
…and staring.
Nothing else to do but look at the weather report.
OMG! The temperature in North Florida is going to be 78F tomorrow (25.5C). In comparison, the high in Madison, Wisconsin is going to be 25F.
Do you know what that means? The fleas will be hatching…again!
Isn’t it enough that I have an ever-present writing helper endowed with talented paws that can delete a manuscript in less than 5 seconds?
Or that washing my bedding produces enough dog hair to insulate a floor-length coat?
That space in the middle is where I sleep.
Must I now contend with fleas?
I just changed the bedding this morning, and last week’s is in the dryer. In fact, I just removed the second ton of dog hair from the filter.
So far, no dead fleas.
WooHoo!
Okay, mother nature, let’s compromise: I won’t complain about how much winter SUCKS if you’ll leave the temperature at 65F/50F in North Florida for the next 6 months.
What am I thinking!
Actually, I’m still trying to find my brain.
It was last sighted in Idaho.
Unfortunately, the entity that invented volcanoes undoubtedly doesn’t care if I’m comfortable during the winter — but it was worth a try.
I’ll shut up now. If I ask for too much, the Yellowstone supervolcano will probably erupt, and fleas will be at the bottom of my 1st world problems list.
I’ll be worried about the little things, like feeding my dogs and cats, surviving 10 years of winter, having enough ammunition to dispose of the zombies…
…apocalypse stuff.
On the bright side, it’s doubtful China will want to invade the world after that happens, especially if the wind is moving west over the Pacific ocean when the mega explosion hits.
They’ll be too busy trying to breathe.
It’s a great way to remind me that I’d better be thankful for the little things in life, like flea prevention and bug repellent.
There’s a story for you. Yellowstone. A serial killer that hauls the bodies to Yellowstone and dumps them in the boiling hot acid pools so they disolve. And therein lies my problem with writing stories. There’s my whole story in the second sentence. What else does anyone need to know?
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Oh…there is so much more. What was the serial killer’s (SK) life like as a child? Was the root of SK’s evil an abusive parent? Mental Illness? Was he born that way? Or was SK a jilted lover who is now a national park ranger. Does he drug his victims and transport them to the pools? Are his victims happy couples or men or women? Why are they chosen, or is the choice by convenience, like campers in a remote area who don’t suspect the park rangers motives when he offers them a free tour of places no one else is allowed?
Readers are interested in the mystery that created such a twisted soul by getting into the mind of a psychopath. Dumping them in hot acid pools is the result — not the story. 🙂
That truth is something I’m still learning how to do, too.
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Well, fleas are rather awful, Joelle, and they carry bubonic plague. Hehe, Just saying. I don’t like mild winters either as we seem to get a lot more illness when that happens.
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I like being without fleas, but not weather under 70F in the day. Unfortunately, I can have only one or the other. I envy people who can love winter and find activities to do on ice and snow.
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Eek! I am inching now !
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Inching, or itching? 🙂
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Lol sorry I am very tired I meant itching
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I had to chuckle because it looks like something I would write when I’m tired, and inching toward bed. 🙂
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Lol that’s me 💜💜
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