today’s one of those days where i have tons to write about. TONS. i want to write about bowling on friday and the list about why you should have asked me out on friday night before bowling. i want to write about the wonderfulness of my job that i love to bitch about and how my co-workers are so funny they make my stomach hurt. i need to write about writing group and liking my family and the contest of dysfunction. i need to finish margo’s short story and write one about the toilet duck incident. i need to tell you about lunch with webboy and jess.

i have words tumbling about for all those things, but my emotional and physical exhaustion prevent me from doing any of those topics the justice they deserve. i think the sleepless night coupled with the bigger-than-my-head beers has left me with writer’s constipation. plus add on that the euphoria of the well-received presentation and the much-loved birthday gift and well, my eyes are droopy and it’s only seven o’clock.

how much you wanna bet i’m sawing logs by 8:30?