Crappy Work Ethic.

I’m doing a terrible job of getting a writing project done. Evidence here, under your eyeballs. I’m writing here like a champ! Getting it done! But the job I get paid for? Sigh.

I ate two pieces of cake today though. And, I fed the chickens joyfully and I bought all the tchotchkes for the party give away bags. whatever demon mother first came up with the birthday family giving presents OUT at the party? Damn her to hell. Anyhow, kid wanted gum to be given out. so i have gum. Gum.

And I don’t even have anything exciting to write. I’m sort of blissing out on my kid’s birthday. I just adore her, and she’s nine. What a great age. I tell you, I’ve loved every single age, once toddlerdom ended. Every single one. For all three kids.

So, I’m blissed out, and having a hard time tying myself to the writing job. I had a call with a client and took on some other jobs, so I’m laughing at myself a bit, because I clearly think I’m going to meet my deadline and all will be well, even though said deadline is creeping up my ass as I type.

colorful language, yes. but really.

Almost forgot to post this today, because its almost dark and its three pm and i just want to snuggle and have my tea and live like I’m supposed to live, in swathes of flannel with cheeks pinked from being outside in bluster.

Boy, this is windy ramble. So says I. and so says todays weather. So we match. It is well with me.

I’m smiling contentedly at you whilst the time slips away.

A moment of well.

  • love love.
dirty dry pattern texture
Photo by Markus Spiske on

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