Two-ply Quilted, Please

I was so looking forward to Wednesday. Today.

It's pretty much the best day of my work week. If there is such a thing.

It's a light day work-flow-wise and typically a light day patron-flow-wise. Win-win, smack dab in the middle of my week.

I now have two blogs in the center of my radar. I love this. It is all, all good. However, it does double my blog expectations. Expectations strictly self-imposed mind you, but still, being my own toughest critic this is no small thing.

As far behind as I am feeling in the area of 'blogging,' a wide-open, slow day looked like a hot fudge brownie sundae sitting in front of me.

So there I was, starting my much anticipated Wednesday work shift, eager to get the blog wheels turning.

What shall I write about? Fiction? Non-fiction? (And I totally know the difference.) Personal, intimate? Or irreverent and observational? It would be fantastic to get two whole blog posts up and visible in this one day. And I'll do it, too. Because I've got all day for the 'brainstorming' part of the process, so no problem right? Yes indeed, that's what I thought as well.

Hello, Inspiration? Hello. Are you there? I'm here, I'm ready. Let's go.

Nothing. Less than nothing, if that's possible.

In the mean time, I keep chipping away at regular, on-going chores. Waiting, waiting. But nothing.

*drumming my highly polished, overly bandaged library fingers impatiently on a book about the Amish*

Waiting. Woo hoo, Inspiration. Where are you? WAITING already!

Now I won't explain in detail what happened next but I will tell you the discovery I've come to because of what happened next: Writing in the bathroom! Eureka.

Of course! Why hadn't I thought of this before? Years before? *head slap*

I am a writer and I have colitis. 2 + 2

Writing in the bathroom just makes sense, doesn't it? A match made by the gods of porcelain and Northern toilet paper. Not that I did the writing on the actual toilet paper, but that's not a bad idea either. Although single-ply might prove a bit problematic with my favourite fountain pen.

Now . . . .this was not exactly the type of inspiration I was aiming for, but I like to remain open-minded when the Universe speaks to me, all poetic like.

If you happen to be the squeamish sort, be not afraid, for I did not write this particular piece in the bathroom but good things are to come, I assure you.

If you happen to be a participant in the other blog in which I am engaged, please note the following permission slip:

To whom it may concern ~

Barbie has my permission to use this fluffy piece in both of her blogs. But just this once. Please allow her back into class upon return of her senses and do not count this entry against her. Just pretend like it never happened.

Yours sincerely....


Thanks for reading.

PS: Let's never speak of this again...... unless of course you have a comment of encouragement, in which case, speak away.