What a whirlwind week it has been. Wasn’t yesterday Tuesday? (consults crayon, glue and apple calendar.) No? *Sigh* On a brighter note, that means tomorrow is Sunday. (Yes, I am a candidate for Mensa.)
Advanced Literary Terms 104
I have been admonished. No, not in the Friday Follies kind of way. From my dear sister, Val. As we discussed the vacation plans (due to begin in just 18 short hours), I told her this would be my first non-working vacation since she and I ran away to Bourbon Street & breakfast at Brennan’s, all after shoe and hat shopping. It was a pilgrimage of epic proportion. (Hyperbole and alliteration aside, you really need to go to breakfast at Brennan’s.)
She was quick to point out the oxymoronic paradox created by using the words working and vacation in the same sentence. I concede: She is correct, as usual.
All work and no play.
If you have not been watching the Million Word Meter fill up, I have been a mite busy, especially since the meter is only counting the words in the blog pages and posts…not the comments, the hatemail, the hundreds of blog comments at other spaces, my insipid poetry (remind me to tell you about that in another post…like Monday), my books and the 2-300 text messages I can send in a day.
Truth in Advertising
The meter is like the gas gauge in a ’58 Edsel…merely a suggestion. When I am not trying to get ahead (like I have been doing since Tuesday), I have been averaging about 5,000 words a day because I am taking it easy. No outside work, unless it is a dire emergency…and they beg…and it pays well.
Elsen’ than that, I ain’t ‘rittin’ nuttin’. I refer you back to So, I am a snob. And?
How long have you been having these symptoms?
My therapist, who is a direct descendant of the Marquise de Sade, asked me that question after I told her I needed a referral to a heavy arms dealer with a specialty in directional explosives, who took Visa and had a strict confidentiality, encrypted security and an ironclad non-disclosure policy.
Which symptoms, doctor? The twitch, the insomnia or the homicidal, pyrotechnic fantasies?”
I noticed somewhere about Fasten Your Seat Belts I was a bit testy. Yes, you all noticed it too that day. (Many thanks to John for his MP “Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch” quote to brighten my inner arsonist.) And in what I can only call a charitable act, no one wrote me hatemail about following that post with one named I need blood.
Maybe, it was a healthy respect for my IP backtracking abilities or a fear of the sheer number of self-produced minions I possess, but everyone gave me some space.
It is about freaking time.
Under the advice of my doctor, my therapist, my sister, a host of friends and my children, I am officially on vacation as of my noon post tomorrow. However, I was disturbed to find Internet scuttlebutt M3 would be dark in my absence. (Refrains from throwing anything… else.)
Hellllllllllloooooooooooooooo! I am the one who puts up notices when my posts are going to be two hours late! The posts will continue. (Nods knowingly toward the schedule button.)
The lights are on…no one is home.
(Don’t read too much into that.) No, it will not be dark, but you will be subject to what I have planned rather than our cozy normal routine of me writing something, us discussing it and me scrapping the next three posts until we overcome whatever the comments vomited up in response to what I wanted to write.
Bear with me. There will be more (allegedly) creative posts like the one from this morning. Oh, and a speed bump or two. Just to see if anyone is paying attention. (Maniacal laughter.)
Until next week,
Any advice for me while I am on vacation? Or any advice for my therapist when I get back?
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