This is not good. I am sitting in my office, coffee cold, this sad little banana that’s been sort of half-finished, unpeeled and partially ravaged, and lying on the desk. I only ate it because they were talking about skipping breakfast leading to heart disease on the CBC. I’m feeling like a kid right before summer holiday. I keep looking out the window, daydreaming about haircuts, pedicures and far off destinations.
I need to be focused, creative, organized…hmmm, what color would I get on my toes? Surely no self-respecting woman goes on holiday without a little sprucing up. And I could use it…I’d love it if the Wash & Brush Up Company from “The Wizard of Oz” could give me a proper once over.
This is a want, not a need. I need to write, I want a pedicure. I also want a latte, a million dollars and a massage from my pool boy Pedro. Now that I’ve written a solid sentence, let’s look out that window again shall we?
Let’s look over notes… that will inspire me. I do a good shorthand. Sometimes I can’t even decipher my own stuff. “Dancers”, underlined. What the hell does that mean? Just relax…just let it flow, you are a writer, the people–they need you. Nose to the grindstone, fingers to the keyboard. Looking wistful as I think up my magnificent thoughts.
I’ve got so much to do, and time is running short. So I should definitely spend two hours not blogging, and exchanging double entendres over instant messaging with my Improv Group. Look at this to-do list, when will this be done? There’s no time like the present…but first, lets read about the new Royal Baby, muck around on Twitter, and search for pictures of other people hard at work.
I’m just noticing now that there is a mouse scaling this lovely table cloth, and that woman is moments away from absolutely losing her shit. Look at her, so focused on her book with her fancy little breakfast. Those flowers are going to go flying. Ah, I should look for a picture of that.
Oh, I’m sorry Sister, am I boring you? Is my lack of cohesive theme, my lack of focus exhausting? You should try living in my head for an hour or two, it is a scary, scattered place.
But you know what? I’m going for that pedicure, and I might even slap on a manicure on that as well. You only live once right? Twice if you are James Bond. After all, I can’t very well face the world like the star that I am, with my fingers and toes unpainted? That just wouldn’t do.
All Images Courtesy of Google