Spit it Out

Gotta write. Sumthin.

Writer's Group is bearing down on me like an express train, and nary a word have I tapped. I should be working on the next chapter of my (guffaw) book. My thyroid is purported to be doing better, but it clearly hasn't informed the rest of my body.

This morning I woke up early with a full slate of good intentions. I was going to finish mowing the lawn, move some bluestone patio slabs around and pick up some provisions at the store. All before my business opened at 8:00AM.

What actually happened was a pot of coffee, the last few chapters of a good book, and some emailing. No guilt, but according to the weather guessers, we may have Ark conditions for the next 40 days. Well, perhaps I'll be able to bale my own hay.

It's a devious mind that I have, allowing me the time to eek a blog entry, all the while dodging a chapter draft. The sharp sound you will now hear is me dope slapping myself...