So here it is, the eighth day of November and I've not "officially" announced my participation in this year's NaBloPoMo. Although I'm sure that you, my two astute readers, will have figured out by now that I am participating.
This will be my third year in a row and I promised myself more actual writing would get done; something humorous, a little witty, maybe some thought provoking prose and possibly even an attempt to wring a tear or two from your jaded eyes.
So what have the last eight days found me doing? Running through my crazy days after my three year old and finally collapsing around 11 at night only to realize mere minutes from the clock tolling away the last hour of the day that "OhmygodIhaven'tpostedyet!!!!!!" Thus begins the mad dash to the computer, my eyes bleary and tired, staring at the blank screen, trying to pull something remotely interesting from a brain whose synapses no longer even spark let alone fire.
Today I am starting a little earlier, but I indulged in a bout of insomnia last night that left me with only three and a half hours of sleep. And then a full seven hours of workshops and rehearsals in preparation for the 30th Dickens Christmas Fair have left me giddy and almost falling asleep on my keyboard.
This is the best I can do for now. So let me ask a boon of you, anonymous reader. I know I have a few regulars. Leave a comment. Say hello. Tell me how you found my and why the heck you come back to read my sporadic and often sparse ramblings. Indulge my curiosity.
Just for the hell of it.