Hello Ice Cream, It's Me Erika

There is not enough ice cream in the world to motivate me today. Perhaps this is because ice cream now gives me a bad case of projectile diarrhea. Then again, is there ever a good case of projectile diarrhea? Pounds lost be damned.

It has been 10 days since my last jelly bean. Coincidentially, it has been 10 days since I've been at work.

Vacation is a funny thing. And by funny, I mean boring. I remember now why I don't take vacations. I don't know what to do with myself when I'm off-the-clock and not shacked up in a tropical hut with Paul sipping penis coladas.

There are things I want to do: write a book. But I have writer ADHD, hense the blog. I'm all about the short snappers. But lately I can't even muster the creativity for a post, let alone a whole chapter. So, I decided to morph my book into a clever collection of short stories. Snapity snap. So far, I have a clever collection of possible short story titles. Perhaps I can just do a book of short story titles?

This drives me crazy to no end, ie. the bottom of a wine glass.  I totally need to get out of this rut. I keep waiting for some thing, some one to bitch-slap me back to my self-inflicted goals. I know I should be the one to deliver that kind of a blow. But I'm really getting into Ellen and Oprah and other possible procrastinatingly-friendly daytime TV research.