Everyone wants to know what I have been doing to keep me from writing on my super famous blog lately.
Well, grab some popcorn ladies (and gentlemen), and get cozy because you are going on a madcap, wild journey into the mind of a mad genius (me).
Ready? Okay, here we go.
I walk into the office, determined to pour out my soul to the internet. I sit down. I stare at the screen.
I realize I have to pee.
I do that. I come back. I sit down. I realize I need to refill my water (I am working on a secret project that involves drinking the equivalent of the Indian Ocean every single day…more on that later).
I refill my water. I go back and sit down again.
I realize I need a snack. I go get a snack.
I come back. I stare at the blank cursor, blinking, mocking me in a sadistic ‘Net kind of way. Then I think of the movie, The Net, and I shudder and nearly gag on my snack thinking of the white crop jeans (!?!) whatever insane costume designer had Sandra Bullock wear throughout the ENTIRE MOVIE. Ugh.
I think about how I have some white maternity denim capris that I like to wear to the beach and wonder if Sandra Bullock looked that bad in white “crop” jeans, how much more awful must I look in maternity capris at the beach?
But, I tell myself it’s completely different because mine have on purpose fraying at the end…so it looks more natural and beachy. I wonder if this is really true or just a delusion. I briefly think about taking a picture next time I am wearing the capris, but decide against it because, my self-esteem.
I look back at the screen. Nothing.
I use the stupid laptop mouse to try and move my pointer on the page and instead it opens three additional windows, turns on an autoplaying YouTube clip of a cat on a Roomba, and then it closes the window I was “working” in. I think about how much I greatly dislike the laptop mouse and wish I had a cool wireless mouse like my husband has. After all, I AM a writer. He is merely a successful businessman. I have a famous blog. I should be entitled to first dibs on a wireless mouse.
But, no. He took his with him and I am left with the laptop mouse which now has made it to where my screen is upside down.
So, I fix my screen and decide to look on Amazon “really quick” for a wireless “nano” mouse (whatever that means). I go to Amazon. I type in those words and the screen pops up with ugly, boring mice. And then, what do I see? A mouse with a colorful design on it? What is this? Designer mice? I NEVER KNEW.
So, of course, I have to look at every single designer mouse on Amazon. There are only about 2,000 listings…I scroll quickly. I narrow it down to a cute girl and boy with a balloon, a fox or an owl…I spend an additional twenty minutes calling all my girls to see which mouse they think says “me” better. They don’t care that much, so it’s not very useful feedback.
I can’t decide and then the cute girl and boy get nixed because the description is in Chinese English, “It is our pleasure to inform you of this computer mouse of delicate origin.” Etcetera. Sounds sketchy.
After much prayer and deliberation I decide to go with the owl.
So, I am out of time. I think, “I will write later, after I get home.”
I go out. I come back. Driving into my driveway I notice a pick axe sticking out of a mound of snow next to the road. And two sleds. And some light sabers.
I get upset. I do this sometimes. Especially after I have told the boys NOT to play with the pick axe in the snow, or in the driveway, or basically at all. What will be next? Garden shears? Ugh.
Now that I am upset I don’t feel like writing. I go back to the pantry for another snack and wonder why is it that I go to Costco and spend a small fortune and come home and put it in the pantry and it doesn’t look like I really bought anything.
But, then I see a column of Kirkland Signature Skipjack Tuna and think, “Well, there’s something. We have plenty of skipjack tuna.”
And then I think why does Costco always have to sell the weird flavors and stuff, like instead of selling the almond granola bars, they only sell the peanut ones. And instead of cheesy flavored pretzel crisps, they only sell plain. And don’t even get me started on the weird bagged popcorn flavors they have.
And why can’t they just sell regular tuna? Why “Skipjack”? It sounds questionable.
So, I come back to write and I sit down and stare at the cursor, and then I open a new window and do a google search for “skipjack tuna.”
Apparently, skipjack tuna reproduce at astounding rates, so no worries about overfishing, also Costco dropped Chicken of the Sea for this tuna because this tuna is caught using ecologically friendly means, instead of fish aggregation devices (which can sometimes capture sea turtles and other animals and kill them). So, yay for me buying sustainable but cheap Costco skipjack tuna.
I also read it may be contaminated with some sort of paint residue from boat hulls, but you can’t have everything, I guess.
I stare at the screen again, thinking that I probably saved a ton of money buying tuna at Costco instead of at Harmon’s and then I think about how they always ask me if I prefer paper or plastic at Harmon’s and I always feel caught off guard when they ask me, and I always pause for a bit before responding, and I thought about why.
I realize that I think there should be a third option, which involves merely walking past the register, and all my items will be totaled magically, and then they will be teleported to my fridge and pantry and put there in a neat, logical fashion. Why don’t they ever offer that?
Instead it’s just paper or plastic, and I am thinking to myself, “Should I say plastic? Do they want me to say plastic? I don’t want to hurt birds.” But on the other hand, I think, “Paper bags always rip on me, but I love the way the look and feel so nostalgic and retro.” So I get overwhelmed and ask for half paper, half plastic…
I close the computer and walk by my teapots. I love my teapots. They look like they are lecturing me on how I wasted a whole bunch of time today instead of writing. But, then I laugh. Because I always laugh when I see them.
And then I go to bed.