I’ve been bitching around about how little time I’ve had to write, lately. Now, I finally have a chance (translation: the kids are asleep and before I could collapse into bed, I ingested enough caffeine to fuel the space shuttle) and my brain has begun to eat itself while I sit here drooling on my keyboard.
“What happened to all those great ideas I had before?” I ask myself.
“Buuuuurrrrp,” says my brain.
But rather than waste the twenty minutes I have left before I crash doing something like housework or sudoku, here are the crumbs that are left after the brainfeast.
- I want to tell you all about my new puppy Lola. I’ve got stories, people. I’m telling you. Stories! (Psst. Remind me of this if I start whining that I have nothing to write about.)
- There are twenty-six reasons I should hate the song This Girl Is A Woman Now by Gary Puckett and The Union Gap. But I don’t. I can’t. Instead, I throw my arms open and sing it out, straight from my heart. Oh, Gary Puckett. I’ve found out what it’s all about and I’m learning, yes, I’m learning. Learning! Learning to live.
- I had a dream about Rick Springfield last night. He had joined The Wiggles. Somehow, this made him even more attractive to me. So, I had become some sort of groupie trying to get me some hot Springfield ass. Which I did. Because I’m super-sexy and a bit slutty in my dreams. Then, I spent the rest of the dream trying to hide it from my husband. Interpret that one, psychic friends!
- I won’t put Lucy in a baby swing to be soothed. I feel like she should be soothed by a human being when she needs that kind of attention rather than a robot. Dave says baby swings aren’t robots. And I say, “That’s what they want you to think.”
- Dave and I spent the ride home from T-ball last night re-writing the words to Loverboy’s Working For The Weekend to express our feelings about mowing the grass, which I’ve written about before. I think we’re gonna have to make a video. Maybe this weekend.