My friend, Wendee, has let me know that those of us in the blogging community that do not update our blogs on a regular basis, and she means every single day or even, gasp, more often, really frustrate her. Now, since Wendee is one of my very best friends, I certainly do not want to be the cause of frustration for her. Lord knows, we certainly have enough frustrated women on her hands as it is. No need to add one more to the mix when all that frustration can be avoided by me simply taking the time to write a simple entry for my blog.
So here it is.
A simple entry for my blog.
It's Wednesday. Which means it's been a while. Wendee, please forgive me for that. She already knows this, but I will tell the rest of you that DearSweetDave and I have started a new program. What program is that, you ask? Well, I'm going to tell you. Even if you didn't ask. So if you didn't ask and would rather not know, then just skip the next part. I can assure you it has nothing to do with elimination or bodily functions (well, not directly), so the squeamish really can keep reading, but again, if you're not interested, please just skip ahead.
Good. All those who have continued to read this part will now learn that DearSweetDave and I have begun Operation Early Morning Screenplay. And it is exactly as it sounds. Which, I can tell you, is quite a difficult undertaking for two night owls like us.
In order to accomplish Operation Early Morning Screenplay, DearSweetDave and I have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn. Why on earth we chose the week of the whole spring forward time change to put this plan into practice I will never know. Oh wait, I do know. We're masochists. Pure and simple. We like to make things as insanely difficult as possible for ourselves.
So beginning this past Monday, we have been getting up with the sun (we have even been sleeping with the blinds in the bedroom open...and yes, this means that if you're meandering past our house you can just look right into the bedroom and see the Nakeds doing their naked thing) and have been dragging ourselves to LuLu Carpenter's cafe where we have chosen a table near an electrical outlet (if we're lucky enough to score one...it's quite competitive at Lulu's for those electrical outlets...you have to be strong and brave and willing to fight!) and have set up shop with our two little laptops and DearSweetDave writes away on his screenplay and I, well, I just write away.
Actually, I write about holistic health mostly. Because it seems given the popularity of the teas and this blog, that folks are finding me and asking me all kinds of holistic health questions. And advice. And help for this problem or that problem that has thus far proven unsolvable. I'm really enjoying helping all these people. Honestly, this is what I was born to do, I believe. Help other people. To get well. To bring their own lives back into balance. To find health and well-being. They're the ones who do all the work, really. I just offer some guidance and a few kind words and gentle suggestions.
And while I do that, DearSweetDave works out scenes and dialogue and all that other stuff that goes into screenplays. We do this together until about 9:30. And then DearSweetDave packs up his laptop and heads off to the office. And I usually sit there and continue until I find a good "stopping" point and then I head home.
Now I act as if that has all been happening for weeks on end. It's happened for three days, people. And today? Today I woke up with DearSweetDave along with the sun. And because I was also greeted with uterine disasters of the most unfriendly kind, I looked at him and told him I was sorry but I was bailing. I was going back to bed. I was acknowledging the pain in my gut and putting knees to chin and wallowing in my own misery.
So he went off to Lulu's alone. And I stayed here. In bed. Wondering how I could create a pain-killer that actually WORKED for the pain we women experience when we've got clots the size of watermelons. We can make eight different kinds of medications that will keep a man's dick hard for 4 days, but we can't come up with a decent pain-killer for cramps? Come on now, Pfizer. Stop with all the erectile dysfunction. Let's start concentrating on uterine dysfunction. There are women lined up around the world who will pay you GOLD for that pill. I know they will. Why haven't you figured that out yet? Oh, wait, I know. Because you're all men. And you'd rather have hard dicks.
Of course.
Anyway, if you skipped all of the above, here's where you should start reading again. And I'll just end by saying that I hope if you have a blog that you're updating frequently. Because Wendee is reading. And she likes fresh and interesting material. So go post something for her.
Thanks.
