So yeah, I should be telling you to buy a book, and you can pre-order Stays Crunchy in Milk and I wish you would. But my brain is sluggish so I can’t think enough to type or compose thoughts in order. Which is, I find, a bad place to go “pay me for my writing,” really.

Anyway. Right now I am trying to plot out a novel. Maybe. See I have a novel I have been working on and another novel I might switch to. But the fate of which one I will write first will be decided by plotting. If I can finish plotting #1 then I will write it. If not I write #2. This “finish plotting” bit translates to “by Friday morning,” by the way. So you understand the time frame here. We will see what happens. The nice things is I won’t be sad or disappointed, regardless of which one I end up working on first. So hooray!

But right now my brain just isn’t firing on all … any … cylinders.

——–

Last night at the bar, a small selection:

“Where’s the lock?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well it isn’t where it should be.”
“Maybe it got lost. Or moved.”

——–

“No, you’re supposed to be fun.”
“I’m not any fun. Suck it, bitches!”

——–

“They never stop, do they?”
(from outside: Oh MY God!)
“No. And I lived through the 90s once already.”
(from outside: And then I was all…)

——–

And then M had to take the middle of her piece of bread and break it up into tiny bits and reshape it into cubes, each one getting slightly bigger. That is how she eats the inside of bread. Until I suggested pyramids. I waited until she was down to one cube. She had to stop and try it and, of course, did. Declaring “Bread pyramid!” to the world.

Bread pyramid. Suck it, bitches.