Nothing Earth-shattering here folks, we all feel this way around this time of the week. Even for a restaurant slav…err, umm, worker, such as myself. I have a bit of an indistinguishable ailment, not quite cold, and not tilting dangerously toward bronchitis or pneumonia. This time last year was a several week bout of gastroenteritis, BOY was that a doozy. Must be that magical time of year as we finalize our Thanksgiving travel plans (does anyone stay at home anymore?), marvel at the fallen leaves (mold-allergic people UNITE), and inevitably acquire cooties.
If I spray you with Lysol, please do not be offended, it is Fresh Linen scent. It’s not me, it’s you.
So I’ve realized I’ve gone overboard with the amount of reading I want done in a relatively short amount of time. That’s the problem with wanting to know it all right now. I have no attention span either. Anyone else have this affliction? Not the attention span thing, the overbuying of books, loading up with online classes/tutorials on interesting stuff, then going “How am I going to get to all this?” At least I’ve begun a list of things I want to write about, short story stuff, some magazine worthy. I’m reading other working writers blogs (I refuse acknowledge us as “struggling writers”), follow their pages on social media, knowing we’re all a tightly-knit, but spread apart network of support.
For now, here’s my cute cats. At least they know to give up and nap when their attention spans wear them out.
Tales from a latchkey kid... 