Not About a Dead Dear

If you’re reading this right now, I’m alive! Well, maybe not. I wrote this two days before today and that means it’s Sunday. Or is it Monday? No, today is Wednesday, but I wrote this on Sunday. Or Monday. Or at some point when I was not 35,000 feet above the ground, but I planned to post it while I was 35,000 feet above the ground. I did this so that I wouldn’t use my blog as an excuse to write while I was on the plane, because I don’t need to be writing a blog post right now, I mean, not right, right now, but on Wednesday at nine am, because I really, actually need to be working on a project for my friend Megan who I work on projects for sometimes. But it is sort of a boring project (sorry Megan, but you know what I mean), so I have been putting it off all week in lieu of writing blog posts, but not writing actual writing, like that damn essay I’ve been working on for four months now about that time I walked into my Uncle Arthur’s barn and saw a hanging deer bleeding out and then we all ate deer chili. What? What, Missy?

Uhhh. Huh huh.

What, y’all?

Huh?

I don’t know.

I think what I am saying is that I am in a plane, probably above your head, right… right… now! And I am working on some editing, not writing an essay about a dead deer, and even though that is what I need to be doing right… right… then! I am not doing it then, and I am not doing it now.

Hey, do you guys remember Beavis and Butthead? Remember? On MTV? I didn’t watch it a lot because we were poor and didn’t have cable, but sometimes I did get to see it at friends’ houses and they always did this laugh, you know which one I mean: Uhhhh huuuuh huh huh. It was usually right after someone said a word like: Penetration.

Uhhhh. Huuuuuh. Huh huh.

I guess my brain is fried. That happens sometimes. Next stop, California!

Happy Wednesday!

M.