Slouching toward Bethlehem

. . .or maybe only Monday.

Well, I had great plans for today, chiefest among them wringing a complete first draft out of my underachieving brain and onto the page.  This did not happen.  Honest to ghu, how long can it take to write a single story?

I did shovel snow — the snow was wet, the day was warm — and took care of bidness correspondence, some of which begat more correspondence to be done, um, later.  I paid medical bills in-hand, and there’s still money in the checkbook.  I did the laundry.  I fell on Mozart, which may have been his plan, but wasn’t mine.  Just generally speaking, I’m at a point in my life where the less I fall down, the better I like it.  Reprising the role I play in Real Life, I have been an Evil Liberal on teh intertubes.  I did not do the dishes, because I didn’t want to.   I received the wisdom of the LJ Flist on iTunes, for which I thank everyone who shared very much.

. . .and that’s all the news &c.  Time for lunch and the girding of one’s loins for the morrow.

Progress on “Intelligent Design”
5,373 out of 10,000 words OR 53.73% complete