Mantra: Will not eat McDonald's for dinner again this week. Will. Not. (Repeat until little cartoon depictions of French (freedom!) fries stop dancing in head like so many sugarplum fairies with tiny, lavender shoes and bouquets of pretty flowers, just for me.) Just as a guess (or horrible warning; you choose), I m...i...g...h...t eat ice cream for dinner though. Mmmm, Ice Cream for Dinner. I love you, ice cream. Creamy deliciousness. Ice cream and Diet Coke. They cancel each other out, right? Is ice cream for dinner better than more grease and salt? Nope. But Ice Cream for Dinner = Driving Straight Home from Work Instead of Stopping for Food. Shrug. It's the little things that get me, really.
I'm beginning to froth at the mouth just waiting for NaNoWriMo to start. November 1, baby! Oh yea, oh yes, WordGeek™ am I.
I'm off work in 21 minutes and have been, again, left unsupervised by King V. I would be so out of business if I ran my own firm. Self-discipline? What is this concept of which you speak?
1 comment:
I'm thinking of doing NaNaWriMo, too, and talking Stephanie's friend Elizabeth into it, also.
Post a Comment