That Old Song
I don't mean to be a repeating record. (Note to anyone under forty: A record is made of vinyl and was once used to distribute music, pre-iTunes.)
I keep swearing (I'm not talking about cussing, although I do that too. No I mean vowing) to quit going on about how busy I am. For one thing, Baby Sister assures me it's the height of arrogance to use being 'busy' as an excuse for anything. We're all busy and my time isn't any more important than yours so if you've stopped by to see if I've written anything new and been disappointed, then I beg your forgiveness.
However, I also put forth that your time is too precious to waste on reading my half-hearted attempt at blogging, so, um, You're Welcome as well.
Anyway, I had great hopes of getting my latest ms off then kicking back with a visit with my girlfriend in Kelowna (did and it was awesome!) Then I was to come home and get caught up on all the things I've been pushing to the back burner while I was writing that smokin' hot ms. Of course, I forgot that the editor I've been working with is also smoking hot and she has already sent me suggestions for revisions. So I will not be helping hubby clean the garage this week. (He's devastated. Now he can spend all his time finishing that bathroom reno we started in October, rather than being distracted with making room for that ping-pong table he wanted.) (LOL - I totally just heard him swearing because he accidentally turned the shower on himself.)
I also won't be writing that super-intelligent, fun and well-worth-the-read entry this week. Possibly two. Sadly, I am now squeezing in excuses between printing out the editor's email and phoning Australia.
The really really pathetic thing about my blogging habits is, I have such great intentions. I read something in the newspaper over breakfast and I am FIRED UP while I drive to work. I have all sorts of extremely insightful opinions that the world needs to hear in order to balance some dopey journalist's POV on topics that really matter.
Unfortunately, I tend to forget them somewhere between remembering to pick up milk on the way home and remembering to take my kids to wherever they're going that evening. Rest assured though, that if I actually wrote down all those things I was thinking, you'd be nodding your head and laughing at how well I put those know-it-alls on the run. I'm that good.
You know, when I sit back and look at it, I'm pretty sure I don't have time to be published.
But I am trying to get there...between all the rest. Thanks for dropping by to see how I'm progressing.
Oh, and for those of you following the wildlife visitors to our neck of the woods, we're on to wild boars. I'll post photos if one shows up in our garden.