My new year started with a bang, lemme tell ya. I stumbled out of my bedroom at 2pm, tripping over my cat who was surly about her empty food dish. There I stood, squirrely-eyed and disheveled, and I was forced to take stock. Inventory was sparse. Post-apocalypse sparse.
1) I had not a scrap of clean clothing. The laundry had been piling up since I returned from Christmas vacation at the homestead. I’d been back a few days now. I’m not telling you how many. You can judge me for my other transgressions.
2) My car sat there in the parking lot, ready to go from it’s recent, uber-responsible maintenance, but I couldn’t drive it. A mysterious and subtle tax was levied against me from a town I lived in three years ago…unbeknownst to me, until the very nice policeman told me I was driving an unregistered vehicle. Then he had my car towed at my expense. For a whole Benji! At 1am… That’s RIGHT, blogosphere. *sniff* The man can void your registration (and not tell you) for an unpaid $6, 2-year’s-late fire tax. Oh, and not knowing about this tax is not a viable excuse. “SUCK IT, CITIZEN…ps: thanks for not getting violent. Now please, pay this ticket for your unruly avoidance of fair and totally logical taxation. Love, your government.”
3) I was pretty sure I lost my credit card the night before…
4) I had no clean dishes. Or food, really. And then!… There’s my card! Safe in the empty Cheezit box, where else!?
5) The very, very expired “Finish the novel!” New Years resolution, circa 2013, is staring at me unapologetically from beneath the grit on the chalkboard. It doesn’t think much of my shark socks.
So, my dearest blog, here I am. Starting over again. I’ve cleaned the blackboard, retired my recreant, tax evasion ways, and fed the cat. And! I’ve become a feminist. Thank you, Caitlin Moran!
This year’s the year! I’ve reset the clock and I’ve got my waypoints. Stick with me for more exciting writing prompts and sneak peeks from my manuscript!!
(…Does meta sarcasm work in text? I bet Tina Fey could manage it.)
No seriously. It’s gonna be a good year. Stay tuned.
My current word count for my novel is: 45,990/ 70,000. (Why has my word count almost doubled!? Because I went to the school of hard knocks and they said, “yea verily, a novel shall be no less than 70,000 words.” Thanks for asking!)
Muse’s next directive: “Fill in the blank: ‘When I first told my family about ___________, they didn’t believe me.’” (I hope I find the Muse soon…I think it fled my bookshelf!)