I thought about writing a scholarly treatise on a subject about which I know much and you know little, just to enlighten the world a little bit but, no.
I thought about writing a zany, knee-slappingly funny anecdote (true story! WAHAHAHA!) but, no.
I was going to give you a blow-by-blow account of how my day went from a bad start to a crazy center, gooey like a cream-filled chocolate, only not nearly as good, to movingatthespeedoflight to crisis center action to okay I can't do anything about this until tomorrow morning when the guy who knows how to fix it might be at work but, alas, no.
I was going to tell the truth about one of my deep, dark secrets but well, no.
I was going to regale you with the moving and tender account of my baby girl's very first day at school, but since she told me I could go after 5 minutes...no.
Why, you ask? Why, oh WHY, would I not be able to write about any of these things?
(BECAUSE IT'S HAPPENED AGAIN)
( A miniscule* amount of substance in an otherwise completely unnoteworthy entryCollapse )