Just another Monday

I was on facebook a few minutes ago. I didn’t really have a reason. I was just procrastinating. I have to get the kids up in a few minutes and rush them off to school. All of the before school prep work is done.

I could take a shower but I would rather save that until I get back home. I only have plans to drop them off, then come home and clean the house. I will probably want another shower after all that is done anyway so I think I will just wait. I can use the time it would take me to shower now, to write and sip my coffee.

If only my brain will co-operate. It feels like a heavy lump sitting inside my skull at the moment. I am hoping by the time this first cup of coffee is gone it will be rejuvenated. I think it is tired from all of the dreaming I did last night.

I don’t remember much, but there is this very vivid bit about trying to hide motorcycle tires in a tool closet and having an old Asian lady for a next door neighbor. I can see her so clearly that she will probably end up in a story somewhere. I don’t know about the bit with the motorcycle tires.

Anyway, I brought up facebook because I just watched this really neat video that was posted to my daughter’s timeline. It was a visual of what I feel like I go through with my characters sometimes. I don’t really draw of course, but there in my head fictional people are having a major kung-fu throw down.

Here is a link: https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10152922870209245

Enjoy!

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Published by: thecoffeefox

Once upon a time there was a woman who was a writer. She was either cursed or blessed from birth to be so and there was much debate on which it was. One day a very discouraging (and not very original) person told her not to give up her day job. The woman smiled and said that was a wonderful idea. Following the unwittingly clever advice of her critic, the woman found a job working nights, which left her days free to write. Even better, the night job had an unusual schedule which packed two weeks worth of work into one, so the writer was able to have every other week off to sit on her front porch, daydream, and of course write. However, working at night and writing during the day left little time for sleep, so the poor writer occasionally went a little mad, but she decided it was an acceptable price to pay to be able to continue following her curse-blessing. Also she likes tea. :)

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