I worked late today and I'm on my own all next week, so no telling what's going to happen. I've already got two problem shipments driving me nuts so I guess I'll do my best to keep from letting them crash and burn.
Problem is, I can't think, right now. I got the perfect images for "Hunter" but I'm in a serious phase of dyslexia and have to keep going back and correcting typos because I'll hit the wrong damn key...and it's all because I had boiled eggs and powdered potatoes with gravy for dinner. I know it. Too many carbs and too much cholesterol and not enough awareness of reality...and for some reason I feel stoned even though I don't.
Hmmmmmmmmmmm..what can this mean? Is it post-patrum concussion? I start giving birth to a new story and it's now messing with my hormones...or testosterone...or LDL or Triglycerides or something. I wouldn't mind it if I'd actually had something to drink.
Oh...maybe it's Patsy withdrawal. I do need a nice big glass of Cabernet.
Of course, it could just be a brain tumor or a stroke or something mundane like that. Who knows? I have too much going on to be so full of nothing going on.
Okay...I've stopped making sense. Time to put down the typewriter, take a nice, long, hot shower and kick back.
Oh, fuck -- there goes the fucking fire alarm!
Problem is, I can't think, right now. I got the perfect images for "Hunter" but I'm in a serious phase of dyslexia and have to keep going back and correcting typos because I'll hit the wrong damn key...and it's all because I had boiled eggs and powdered potatoes with gravy for dinner. I know it. Too many carbs and too much cholesterol and not enough awareness of reality...and for some reason I feel stoned even though I don't.
Hmmmmmmmmmmm..what can this mean? Is it post-patrum concussion? I start giving birth to a new story and it's now messing with my hormones...or testosterone...or LDL or Triglycerides or something. I wouldn't mind it if I'd actually had something to drink.
Oh...maybe it's Patsy withdrawal. I do need a nice big glass of Cabernet.
Of course, it could just be a brain tumor or a stroke or something mundane like that. Who knows? I have too much going on to be so full of nothing going on.
Okay...I've stopped making sense. Time to put down the typewriter, take a nice, long, hot shower and kick back.
Oh, fuck -- there goes the fucking fire alarm!
2 comments:
mmmm...gravy.... :)
A bit on the salty side but a rich and creamy brown. I think that's why one character who just popped up in the story may have wound up being black. And I'm still being weird.
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