Crap.
I did it.
I joined NaBloPoMo, which means I have to, like, blog every day for a whole month.
Do you know what this means? Do you understand the far-reaching implications of this commitment?
It means I have to sit down every single day and write something.
To make sure we're clear: I have to sit down with a coffee every single day, taking time away fromburning things cooking, stuffing things under the couch cleaning, stuffing things in closets sorting, bribing and threatening parenting, and desperately seeking coffee dates being popular -- to blog.
No longer will I have the excuse of my silly little life getting in the way. For at least half an hour every day, sick kids will have to wipe their own noses, dishes will sit stinky in the sink, and I will ignore the sticky mystery substance on the living room carpet. They will all have to wait, because I am a blogger, and I must blog. It is my destiny.
(Or some such junk I'll use as an excuse to not take care of the never-ending list of responsibilities on my plate.)
Of course, I decided to sign up for this just now, as my gremlins scream at each other in the midst of their sugar highs, in the wake of a fun but tiring Halloween, ending with the coup de grace of a daylight savings time change. My timing, as always, is impeccable.
So, I leave you for now with The Maven's 2009 costume, which I proudly sported for most of the day yesterday:
Yes, my pretties. I was Octomom. I'm shameless, and you love it.
Or at least you tolerate it. Either is fine, really.
I did it.
I joined NaBloPoMo, which means I have to, like, blog every day for a whole month.
Do you know what this means? Do you understand the far-reaching implications of this commitment?
It means I have to sit down every single day and write something.
To make sure we're clear: I have to sit down with a coffee every single day, taking time away from
No longer will I have the excuse of my silly little life getting in the way. For at least half an hour every day, sick kids will have to wipe their own noses, dishes will sit stinky in the sink, and I will ignore the sticky mystery substance on the living room carpet. They will all have to wait, because I am a blogger, and I must blog. It is my destiny.
(Or some such junk I'll use as an excuse to not take care of the never-ending list of responsibilities on my plate.)
Of course, I decided to sign up for this just now, as my gremlins scream at each other in the midst of their sugar highs, in the wake of a fun but tiring Halloween, ending with the coup de grace of a daylight savings time change. My timing, as always, is impeccable.
So, I leave you for now with The Maven's 2009 costume, which I proudly sported for most of the day yesterday:
Yes, my pretties. I was Octomom. I'm shameless, and you love it.
Or at least you tolerate it. Either is fine, really.