Writing with my neck on fire
The fireplace behind my back is burning my hair. Pleasantly.
Hmmmm…lemme see…so on saturday I went to a beekeeping class and I really, really liked it – I had no idea that the male bee “drone” has a barbed penis so he has sex only once in his lifetime. Wow – what a life. Sit around the hive and wait be called for the “special” mission. If not called, they just feed you and keep you toasty. That sounds great.
The not so great part: you are a virgin drone, the summer is over, and the girl bees are starting to eye you as a parasite and they show you the door. (Oh, and they take away that survival book of yours – so you starve and freeze…Darn).
Snow DAY!
Yay! People! I am so happy to not have to go anywhere. It is enough that I had to drive Hubby to the trainstation – thus endure the weather conditions of “holy s#@t – the tires are really not touching the road”. But hey, 45 minutes later ( a ride that usually takes 15 minutes) I am home, safe, warm, with my fuzzy slippers on.
Now I have lotsa time to think.
Now I can think how to be productive.
I can clean up our room/house/bathroom/basement.
Wash the dog.
Do the laundry.
Make art.
I can seriously ponder what I want to be when I grow up.
Search craigslist for job listings.
I can do SO MANY THINGS.
Or not.
