Things I’ve been doing instead of not working on my novel this weekend:
1) Wrote in two answers to the New York Times crossword puzzle before falling asleep on the couch in a sitting position, leaning on Adam’s neck.
2) Removed the skeleton that was hanging from out front door.
3) Contemplated hanging a turkey by our front door.
4) Nixed the idea of a turkey by the front door
4) Completely caught up in my blog reading (and my new favorite blog out there? Mimi Smartypants. She’d have no problems writing a witty novel in a month.)
5) Checked my belly button for lint.
6) Considered paying bills
7) Realized there was nothing to pay bills with
7) Made cocoa.
8) Raked part of the front yard until my hands were too numb to continue.
9) Proved to myself once again that I am not double jointed.
10) Formulated my plot for infiltrating HBS and forcing students to watch Norma Rae, Matewan, and Sullivan’s Travels, while I secretly burn all their khaki pants and blue shirts, replacing them with the fetching wear of Kmart’s Jaclyn Smith collection.
Hey, when did “clothing” become “apparel”? Is this like no one eating “spaghetti” anymore, just “pasta”?
And I still have no ideas for what to do next in my novel (word count: 32,042, although it looks like it will stay there for a while if I don’t come up with something brilliant for my character to do).
