That is all I wrote today. So of course, I'm going to blog instead. My wires are seriously all strung up the wrong way. I could be writing about aliens. Or sleeping. Instead I'm writing my excuse for why I did not get cracking on my crazy ass train wreck of a novel.
1. I'm jet lagged from the time change. Not really, I'm just lazy because it gets dark early.
2. I had to drive to the Costco (on fumes apparently because the tank was completely empty) so I could look at everything in the place and then spend way too much money. I have to eat while I'm making my fingers bleed and developing carpal tunnel syndrome, right?
3. Then my house was too dirty to be in. I vacuumed, did some dishes, washed some laundry. It is still messy, but it doesn't smell like dirty dog and mud from all the rain.
4. I had to pull weeds in my yard. Actually, I really did. These prickly ass weeds are giving my dog such a bad rash that she has bald spots. And frankly, Laverne is more important than aliens.
5. To help me out, the Pineapple Parents offered to come and pick up their Costco goods to save me a trip. Instead their car overheated (because there was a big fucking hole and all the coolant leaked out of the car which we discovered after I went to the store to buy distilled water which all poured out on the driveway) and I had to take them home.
5. The Pineapple Dad had not been shopping and I needed more shit from the grocery store. I just can't eat 20 heads of lettuce before they go bad. Somethings are better bought in smaller quantities. Hence, second shopping trip of the day.
6. After dropping the Pineapple Dad back at his house, I headed home. After learning the tow truck was coming in the next hour I decided that I should eat. Yummmy. I call my creation Pepper Pizza. It had yellow bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, and crushed red pepper (and also some sauce, basil, and cheese).
7. After the car was towed away, I decided that if I have clean sheets that the girls and I should get clean too. Also? My coworkers probably like me better if I don't come to work with plant life in my hair and dirt on my face.
8. Then I crawled in bed and wrote 428 words. And then bitched about it on my blog.