I Have It! Uh, No, I Don't ... Wait, Yeaah ... No, I Got Nothing

I won't tell you how long I sat in front of my computer screen last night, although it was for nearly two hours. My ever-helpful friend Llama told me, when I commented that I was sitting here freaking out about writing for The Street, not to get "writer's block over that 'whole writing for a large audience of strangers'". I quickly assured her that I was not doing any such thing. I was, in fact, way past that and quickly on my way to 'having an aneurysm over the whole writing for a large audience of strangers.' I did not actually have an aneurysm, I was able to post something, whether it made any sense or not, or was even funny, remains to be seen. Boy, I'm sure glad I haven't been sitting here all day, hitting the refresh button, to see if any comments come up. That would just be way too sad and demoralizing to even consider.

Anyway, back to my other life, the one where politics and humor and writing don't matter, so long as I have a small and persistent human surgically attached to my left hip.

I have made huge progress on the costume, and it is starting to resemble an actual piece of clothing, albeit a piece of clothing that looks, at this stage, like a tiny pink prow of a ship. That's fine, after Halloween we can take it rafting.

The Boy Scout Mafia has not come through with the promised newsletter 'work.' I have asked Don Martha a few times, and she says a lot of words that don't actually mean anything. I have figured it out, if I am the one doing the newsletter, then that means SHE WON'T BE. And that would result in SOMEBODY ELSE THAT IS NOT HER DOING SOMETHING. So, I can reasonably expect not to be doing the newsletter, after all. I have also figured out, that if I want to be involved in T2's Girl Scouts, or her life in general once she starts school, I have to get involved NOW. It's cutting it close, I know, but since she starts kindergarten in a little over 2 years, I may be able to get indoctrinated into the system just in time.

UH is working his fanny off, getting caught up and caught up IN his work, and he worked the last Saturday, and he has been coming home late every night this week. Which is all well and good, I understand his situation. And I hope he understands my situation, if I don't get to leave this house by myself this weekend, I end up smothering him with a pillow.