Last week I finally got my hair cut...the woman found a bobby pin in the mass. I'm fairly certain there was more booty in there too, maybe a cork or a lost earring, luckily she had the tact to withold that from me.
The next day I discovered a parking ticket...in my sock drawer.
Then there was the ink stain on my boots because I dropped an old cartidge in my boot bucket (a post for another day, when I will finally admit and analyze how/why said boot bucket contains seven pairs of boots in various shades of brown)
Oh, and the popcicles that I forgot were in my trunk...when I went grocery shopping before Christmas.
Clearly, I've let myself go. Lucky for me my culinary companion had the good sense to draw my lacksidaisicality (real word?) to my attention, in his painfully blunt and annoyingly right way. So here's the sob story: I've found myself on this bleak Sunday in the middle of a graduate semester that I am totally unprepared, and unequipped for. I happen to (occasionally) write a blog about food, but the most exciting thing in my pantry is a box of sesame Wasa crackers and a vial of terribly expensive espresso powder...that I dropped all over the floor yesterday then carefully scooped back up after picking out the dog hairs.
Throw into the mix a looming (sort of) audition with an aerial dance company whose current members have bodies...well they fly around and balance on their heads all day, so you can only imagine. Panic + hunger + writers block = a very nasty me.
BUT...I've decided to make a conscious effort to post...ideally daily, realistically every-other-daily. Not writing for a professor, a boss, or more recently, a member of the Boston Transportation Authority. Just for me, or for you.
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1 comment:
you posting = happy me.
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