Soooo, as I was saying. I wanted to write a nice blog post because I've been kinda busy lately what with kids and my manuscript and such and I've been kinda, sorta, a little bit, notsomuch writing here. In case you hadn't noticed. But when I sat down at my computer, I couldn't think of anything to write. So I had some coconut M&Ms thanks to my reader Jennifer, for sending them to me.
Hopped up on the heavenly combination of coconut and chocolate, I looked back at my keyboard, ready to start writing. But I read some mail instead. Did you know that Dr. Clement Okon requests my confidence in an urgent business matter that will net me 21,000,000 US dollars? I know! I was pretty excited about that too!
Done with my spam folder, I pulled up my blog once more, but was sidetracked by Lexi who had gotten out of bed to
tattle tell me that Clay was out of bed. After duct-taping the kids back in bed (No, Joe, you and your parents don't need to call DCFS; I didn't really tape them in bed. I know you don't comprehend this, but I use humor and sarcasm in my blog.), I sat down and stared at my computer screen again.
Since nothing exciting happened to me today (well, excluding the part where I was at the grocery store and saw the Black Eyed Peas. I took a picture of them and twittered about it, but no one thought it was quite as cool as I did. In fact, Austin even told me I was a dork. So, naturally, I posted it on his Facebook wall.
When I was done playing around on my son's wall, I brought up my blog once more. And once more, I was distracted from writing; this time by Lexi telling me that Jackson's turtle was on the floor.
"Jackson, why is your turtle on the floor?"
"Because I spilled his food on the floor."
I stared at him. "???"
"He's cleaning it up for me."
I glanced at an entire jar of turtle food on the floor. I looked at his tiny little turtle. Yep, makes sense to me. I turned on my heel and left.
Back at my computer, I stared at my blank screen, willing something brilliant to pop into my head. The only thing that crossed my mind, however, was that I was thirsty. I went to the fridge to pour myself some orange juice. This is what I saw. I didn't even question who put the shrunken head there or why. Some things just don't surprise me anymore. It's normal to see a decapitated head in the fridge, it's normal to hear Clay sing a song about pooping in the USA, and it's normal when one of the kids has a friend over and when it's time for the friend to go, we can't find her shoe. Anywhere. For two days.
Okay, enough procrastinating, Dawn. You have to think of something to write. Your readers expect you to come up with something now and then. Think, think, think. Ugh, this is ridiculous! It shouldn't be this hard to think of something to write, for crying out loud!
I stalled some more by cleaning all the garbage out from under the couches. I decided to do some sit-ups since I was already on the floor and all. I did two before my abdominal muscles got up and walked right out of my body, leaving me lying in a ball, crying in pain on the floor. From that great vantage point, I saw an M&M I'd dropped and
ate it promptly threw it in the garbage can.
I went back to the kitchen and added a little rum to my orange juice. After a few minutes, I decided that perhaps my rum to orange juice ratio wasn't quite right. I started thinking it would be fun to actually wear an eye patch to Target tomorrow, and talk like a pirate to everyone. "Shiver me timbers, I can't find the laundry detergent! Can ya be helping a poor pirate to find it, matey?"
Realizing that my blogging was going nowhere, I opted to take a shower and think about it. Somewhere between washing my hair and shaving my legs, I forgot about blogging and started writing dialogue in my head for a great romance novel. I write novels in my head all day long. I don't even realize I do it. I just do. I have since I can remember. As a little kid, I was always "writing" stories in my head. Too bad I don't write brilliant blog posts in my head, huh? And if you've read this far, thinking I'd eventually have a point, all I can say is (in the words of Clay), "Sucks to be you!"