Well, now that Anna’s gone and patched up the site (and demanded presents), I can’t use the virus/trojan/worm thing as my excuse – well, I could… but that would be a little like cheating… and some of you might suspect.
That leaves me with sifting through the mess that is me and trying to extract a story or two. I know I had one last week that I was writing out in my head while driving to and from work and I remember thinking it might work – someone might get a chuckle – and then I actually left the house, did something fun, got a sunburn and the whole thing is gone. This is where Anna would remind me that she encouraged me to get a notebook to jot down my ideas. Now, if I could only remember where that notebook actually went. You see, you can’t just write thoughts down on any old piece of paper. I’ve tried and ended up with yellow bits of wadded up paper around my desk – which now that I look at my desk might not impact the cluttered theme I’m working on too severely.
So, you may have seen the title of this post and said “why is Kati so special?” and really, maybe that’s a question for you to sit quietly back and reflect on, but always remember that in your own way you’re special, too – a unique little snowflake. Plus, Kati has had a heck of a summer (I’d dare say a year) and she prodded me more recently so I’m feeling a little inspired. (I probably don’t feel inspired to proofread, so be ready with your red pens – get something that won’t mess up your monitors too badly. You can’t actually hold me accountable if you do something wacky to your own monitor. That there is what we call a disclaimer.)
Here we go… (next post) (errr, the one right above this one – you people do read in order, don’t you?)
actually I usually read newer first. Sorry to mess up your carefully planned plot twists (or whatever, I’m tired and I’m going to sleep dag-nabb-it)
Darn you Seth, that’s right – DARN YOU! I’m shaking my fist your direction – small problem though, I have no sense of direction… but I feel this fist shaking has been done in a more north-easterly direction. Can you feel it? Hrmm… well, you get the idea at least. Don’t make me shake my fist again… I’m not afraid to do it.>Who am I kidding. I’m barely awake and can barely lift my fingers to type. But deep in side is an angry fist shaking midget, I’m sure of it.