It's not as if I have the time. For anything.
I mean, at this moment if I am to get the wild hair and want to take a bath, it requires a multiplicity of steps of gathering the biggest pans, boiling water, and scraping the nasty crap out of the tub left from the great unwashed before me...
So saying I have gotten the wild hair to participate in NaNoWriMo, to pretend to indulge my fantasy of being some kind of writer, to do something creative, to try to break out of my mundane workaday world of typing my ass off on dry service summaries which no one but auditors ever read...
Well, if I attempt this, I am crazy.
Never tried to deny it.
So here I am, poised a mere 64 minutes before the official beginning of NaNoWriMo, and typing away on my faithful if fickle blog.
The ground for my musings - whether they be philosophical ramblings about my personal recovery from codependency/food addiction/laziness/bitchiness/self-centeredness/excessive use of profanity/bitterness or my opinions about the REAL writers's works I am having the privilege of reading....
Well, this ground might be kind of quiet for the next month or so.
I will try to check in periodically if for no other reason than post reviews or word counts.
And who knows? maybe the next time I start blogging here I might actually write something worth reading.
Stranger things have happened.