Writer’s Block
by emily
What should I write about today?
Should I talk about how Daisy peed inside again? Ugh, no thanks.
Should I talk about the magic of the chick pea? I eat something made out of chick peas almost every day. Two things today. So far.
Let’s brainstorm some ideas…
Day drinking is one of those things that feels like a great idea in the beginning, but then when you’re sleeping on the couch at 3pm and you wake up and your contacts are all dry and there’s a pizza stain on the carpet and you hate yourself, it doesn’t seem worth it.
I keep seeing articles online for fun snacks and drinks to make for Halloween, but I know myself well enough to know that if I make tiny pumpkin-shaped pies that I will just be grumpy that it was a pain in the ass and nobody ate them. See also: mulled vampire wine. Slash maybe I’ll make the mulled wine…
I’m reading a sad book called Room by Emma Donoghue. I’m not sure, but I think they’re stuck in the room. There’s a lot of weird breast feeding in this book. I really like it so far, though, breast feeding aside. I recently finished A Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes and it was delightful and also very sad. I am tearing the library up lately.
It feels like I have more laundry to do now that I have a washing machine in the house. Do you think I’m just washing things more since it’s easier or do you think it’s that I let it take longer because I don’t have to share the machine? Or do you think it’s the same as it’s always been and there will always be so much laundry forever, until we die?
I’d like to peep some leaves someday soon, before they all fall off.
Unfinished things: a dry erase marker fell behind the bookcase; my desk lamp needs a lightbulb; Billy got some bean seeds from our neighbors that he’s going to plant in the spring, I asked him if they need to stay on the kitchen windowsill all winter and he said no, he’ll move them, and yet they remain; there’s a pile of dirt on the bedroom floor; Daisy needs to be taught not to jump on guests; etc etc etc x infinity
I just moved the bookcase and picked up the marker, so that’s one less thing.
This…is kind of bleak?
Day drinking makes for a confusing day, because generally when I’m day drinking I love my life, I’m usually out having fun and I wonder why I don’t do it way more often. Then in the evening when I’m too hungover to do anything other than lie down on the floor, I hate my life, I’m inside when everyone else is going out and I wonder why the hell I do that to myself. Never again, etc.
Dropped pizza can stain the floor day or night …. Drink up day drinkers
I have an idea. Write about how there is a bumper crop of pumpkins this year to make up for the total crap year that pumpkin farmers had last year. This is in long island btw. It’s seasonal, upbeat, and there’s no day drinking required.