If this were going to be a list kind of entry, the first three items of things I should be doing right now would be 1. writing 2. writing and 3. writing. Writing may even be number four on the list. Then number five would probably be to drink more water because even though I tend to only drink water, I doubt I drink enough water. I'm sure there are other things I should be doing right now (like not slouching, I am totally slouching), but I'm not here to write a list. I'm here to write! Ha! Right.
Seriously. I have unfinished things. I have ideas that should be expanded on. I have letters that I've been meaning to sit down and write. There are words out there that I need to gather up and corral. Instead I am spending my spare moments looking around the internet at nothing in particular. When I am at home, I am on the couch playing Sudoku or coloring in my new coloring book. Completely random side note. I bought my coloring book at Powell's Bookstore in Portland. When I asked the young man checking my bag if he could tell me where the adult coloring books were, he gave me a sly look and asked "Do you mean a coloring book or an "adult" coloring book?" and raised his eyebrows at the adult part. They have pornographic coloring books for adults. I regret that I didn't even go to that section and look at them. Also, that young man was covered in glitter. I love Portland so much.
An hour here. Fifteen minutes there. Twenty minutes in between this and that. All of those minutes are minutes I am wasting. Then I feel really bad about myself. Then I remember how Benjamin Franklin made himself a time management schedule because he had a hard time keeping his time in order. Benjamin Franklin couldn't even keep himself from the distractions of colonial life to get as much done as he would have liked. Then I don't feel so bad about myself, but I am not even close to being a Benjamin Franklin. The good news is that's OK, because I don't really want to be a Benjamin Franklin. Do you see how good I am at wasting time?
Sunday, Michael and I were making our second trip of the weekend out to IKEA (you don't even) and the radio got flipped to NPR just as the Moth Radio hour was starting. I was all "Ooooh! I love this show! We should listen to this! Michael I think you'd really enjoy it! I want to tell a story on the Moth!" My brain went "wait. what? You do not want to tell a story on the radio." Michael asked what sort of criteria was required and I couldn't even tell him. I said "You know. A story. A true story about something." I really had no idea what the criteria are for Moth stories, but my mouth was saying that I wanted to do one. I don't think everything through. Except once I said it out loud I knew that this was something I wanted to do because I have a story. I have a great story!
I just need to write it down first.