So... I got home last night and did some stuff and then I went to bed and then I woke up this morning and ate breakfast and then thought "Oops". The old type-A me would have been all stressed out over missing a self-imposed blogging deadline, but the new zen me took it in stride. (Right, that's a lie, I've never been type-A in my life. Some days my only goal is to get out of bed and take a shower before dinner, and I still let myself slide on that one.)
But back to the point, if I can find it -- I talked to JoJo the Enforcer over the weekend, and she asked me where I come up with my blog ideas. Now, I thought it was perfectly obvious that nine times out of ten I don't actually have an idea. In fact, I went to the damn fair and ate that godawful fried food just so I wouldn't have to think of something else to talk about. I made myself sick for twenty-four hours because I was too lazy to think. How sad is that?
So this morning, I thought to myself "Hey, I should go install my HD radio that I've had in my trunk for a couple of months. I could even take pictures. That would be special enough to excuse the late post." But then I started working and I forgot about it. And then it was too dark to work in the car.
So there we have it. This is a day late, I still have nothing to talk about, and the radio is still in the trunk. It goes without saying that I still have no vanity in the back bathroom and I have yet to put the plate back on the light switch in the front bathroom.
Procrastination, thy name is Theresa.
5 comments:
I did notice the lack of blog post. If there is a lack of blog post, I think it never makes a sound.
Or, 42.
Ooh, haven't seen a 42 joke in a while.
As I get older, I start to consider that I may just be one of those people that make it into the paper with the headline like 'Elderly Woman Found Dead After Loud Meows of Cats Disturb Neighbors For Five Days'.
It makes me think I should leave more food out for the cats, just in case...
No, that will backfire. Cats will expect more food and will still devour your body forthwith.
Also, depending on what sort of decrepit dog you will have at the time he/she/it won't see/hear the ravening horde coming.
The good news is that the dogs won't devour my body -- Molly because she won't be able to figure out how to get on the bed without me showing her the step, and Ginger because she just won't get on the bed.
The cats, though... Oh well, I suppose it's all part of the cycle of life. I just wish they would stop sampling my flesh in the middle of the night. Dammit, I'm not dead yet!
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