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.