I was afraid this would happen, and I don’t have a label to hide behind.
Wrist to Forehead Sunday, Middle-aged Musings Monday, Wuss-Out Wednesday, Non-Sequitur Thursday, Lame Post Friday. I was about to add Running Commentary Saturday, but since that one involves actually going for a run and writing about it, I don’t think it’s in the same category as my taking-it-easy days. In my defense, I don’t use all those categories every week. In my — accusation? guilt? where’s that thesaurus when you need it! — I’ve been using them a lot lately. In my defense again, I’m still recovering from a flood.
This could go back and forth for a while, but I think my point is clear. I do not have a blog post for today and I do not have an excuse not to have one.
For any astute reader who just said, “What about that murderer dumping bodies in the Seine you keep saying you’re going to write about?” I answer, “Good question.”
That post is partially written, but I want to write more and edit what I wrote so far and, you know, make it sound really good.
“So do that now,” the reader continues, beginning to sound less like an astute reader and more like that inner critic I keep mistaking for a legitimate blog reader.
Listen kids, Aunt Cindy is tired (oh yeah, like any nieces and nephews read my blog!). The temperature and humidity are enough to melt any wicked old witch (yes, admitting to belonging in that category), I worked all day, and then I came home and went to the laundromat and did LOTS of laundry.
Yes, my husband helped me with the laundry. What are you getting at?
In fact, as I waited for the washers and then the driers, I worked on another blog post about a movie, this one in the psycho-biddy genre. Just to give a preview of coming attractions.
Even as I was writing, I said to Steven, “Oh, I am just going to go home and write something off the cuff. It’s all I can handle today.”
So here it is. I’m afraid not as clever as I had hoped, but it will have to do.