Apparently I haven’t written anything in nine days. Sorry.
Gene’s home from NJ, supposedly for good. Mom arrives for a 4 day weekend o’ fun tomorrow at noonish. Work is fine, a little stressful. I haven’t taken more than 2 or 3 real lunch hours in weeks. At the rate I’m going, the Target store in town is going to close if I don’t come up with reasons to go. (Actually, that’s a lie. I was just there last weekend looking for socks and cleaning supplies).
I have been spending an overwhelming amount of time playing Crazy Cakes on Pogo.com. It is beyond addictive. I have finished all the levels (I think) and now I’m just playing the tough Master Chef levels over and over again. My shrinky-dink says that, while it’s nice that I’m serving cookies to woodland creatures in a game, I need to not play it so much, especially so close to bedtime.
Something else silly to admit… I end up playing Crazy Cakes when I have writers block or when I just don’t feel like reading anything I’ve written. It’s crazy, but I feel like playing Crazy Cakes when I am home at night and then when I get to work I think of all these things to write, when White Dog is at home and I’d be in serious trouble for whipping out the laptop anyway.
(See? You haven’t missed ANYTHING).