One of those duds of a day
I should be writing.
Oh, look, a funny meme.
Really. I should be writing.
I’m sitting in my chair, cross-legged, staring at the page.
I look at the heading as if it can tell me the meaning of life, and wonder, “What do I write?”
If this is the only exercise I’m getting, why would it be strange that my brain is sitting on it’s @$$ too?
A brain isn’t going to go into overdrive when the engine that powers it — the body — can’t get from 1st to 2nd gear in under an hour.
I have to agree with Maxine:
Well…if I died when an asteroid hit my car, it might be a novel enough way to go for a famous publishing house to ask my son if they can publish all my books.
Hey! I’m allowed to dream.
…and now, back to reality.
It’s almost 2 in the morning and I’m ready to
go back to bed dream.
The 6 dogs on my bed have other plans.
It’s just pay-back for giving them baths.
I suppose I’ll go back to bed later; There’s a lonely little carton of cherry chocolate chip ice cream languishing in the freezer that’s calling my name.