and that just won't do.
that paper is due, that I've been mentioning for weeks now.
for the professor who thinks I'm the greatest writer this side of the library.
and.
that's a fuck of a lot of pressure.
So.
What did I do?
yeah, that's right:
I haven't technically started the paper.
6-15 pages.
due by midnight.
it's 7pm, local time...
and I still have to finish putting the kids to bed.
so, I'm going to count on about 4 hours.
would somebody please come over here and fuck(ing motivate) me???
My brain is mush.
High expectations tend to do that to me.
I've put in a lot of hours on the project already,
but I'm not at all satisfied with any of the topics I've pursued.
Did some brainstorming today,
on the stationary bike
(a nice, calligraphy embossed cream, with a BHW...).
Where was I?
fuck that, where am I???
I am pretty sure that I need to have a radio show, though.
a talk show.
everyone could call in and we could talk about sex.
ok, enough random thoughts for the moment.
In unrelated news, I am now scrambling to fill out one of those "5 celebrities I can fuck without my husband divorcing me" lists...
Eddie Vedder has always been on the list,
but I've never ventured much further.
I'm not much of a celeb girl.
(hey! shut up! I've forgotten alllll about Bo Bice, just let it go!)
so anyway.
gotta work on that list.
I have a new one to add.
No, I'm not telling you who.
Gee, I wonder why I can't ever get anything DECENT written?
yes, there are two five year olds chatting away to me.
asking questions.
pretty sure one of them just asked what a nipple is.
let's hope I can distract him with something sparkly or sugar-filled.
I did, however, explain the theory of water displacement to them during their bath a little earlier.
they get it.
ah...sweet silence....
maybe it'll last long enough for my severed synapses to heal.
no, I'm not being dramatic.
do you even know how many half-thunk thoughts I have in my head?
after 3 years of this non-stop, dual-mode barage of chatter???
usually they stay quiet long enough for me to settle into a thought--
like, the first sentence of a paragraph will form in my head,
and it feels good.
it feels like...
a thought.
and then it's:
MOM!!! or some other, less pleasant but equally jarring exclamation.
siiiiiigh.
nope, no one made me have kids.
I should stop complaining.
especially since they're the most beautiful-smart-funny-wonderful little boys
on the whole
damn
planet.
but it's my right, gawdammit, and I will exercise it!!!
sorry...
I'm just trying to open the flow of thoughts so I can write the paper
that will bow away the professor
who will give me the grade
which will catapult me to instant success.
er.
or something.
fuck you.
look for me on IM.
if you see me, tell me to GET THE FUCK TO WORK.
yeah.
I suck.
(but at least I'm good at it.)
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