Thursday, January 04, 2007

Maybe He's Just Recharging Over The Holidays

It's not that OurDad hasn't done anything worth writing about, we're sure he did, but we didn't notice. Santa dumped a PS2 and a computer on us. We figured we'd have plenty to write about when Grandma and Grandpa, GreatMom's parents, stayed with us for a few days over New Year's. They aren't Great Grandma, and Great Grandpa, because they aren't; they're mom's mom not moms' mom's mom. Got it.

Anyway, if something happened we didn't notice. Our grand parents brought great stuff with them too including our cousins. We had a great time with extra kids in the house. Maybe OurDad was just hiding the whole week. It was kind of noisy. We really didn't notice him until he woke us up for school yesterday. Ahhhhhhhhhh!


SourDad said...

Ok I admit it, I'm not feeling any mojo. Sure a new computer is nice, but I've been spending a lot of time getting it running. And I was forbidden by GreatMom from blogging and hanging out with the sorted internet crowd over Christmas.

But really it's been a mojo thing (writing mojo you pervs). I have been feeling whiped by a bad semester at the old CC, a thousand unfinished projects around the house, but worst of all it was those unfinished short stories that had to go somewhere to make room for the new computer. They just looked at me like orphans. There's too many of them. GreatMom's not thrilled with more stacks of paper on the living room floor.

All of this together is taxing every bit of RAM I've got in my gray matter. I just can't think. Thank God (or Darwin) for the autonomic nervous system.

Those unfinished stories, and the ones that need just a touch before I waste postage sending them to various literary rags that don't know who the frell I am. And what do you care if I staued up till three every night between Xmas and New Years watching Farscape.

If I could just finish a story! Oh I am worse than Kafka. No, I'm not even good enough to be worse than Kafka.

Phoebe said...

Forgive me, but this reminds me of a song:

Fish gotta swim,
Birds gotta fly;
I gotta write a book
before I die.
Can't help ...
writing that manuscript of mine.

Good luck; I hope you find time to finish some and get published.

SourDad said...

Thanks Phoebe