Every day August “naps” (whether he chooses to sleep is his decision) from about 12:30pm to at least 2:30pm depending on whether he falls asleep. Some days he’s in there for three hours, some days it’s close to four, but he’s always in there for at least two. So this begs the question, what the hell do I do with my “time off”? Fuck, if I know.
Those nasty TV people ripped away my soap operas, so now I don’t watch any TV, especially since the new programs during that time slot absolutely suck. Okay, so I DON’T watch TV – good, that’s one thing we know. Umm, occasionally I talk to you – via posting – like today. But that takes all of fifteen minutes. I don’t do the dishes – I like to save that until thirty seconds before Brent walks in the door. So, I DON’T do the dishes – good, something else we now know. What else? Oh, I know. I DON’T read a book, or a magazine. Why don’t I do this? I totally should. I’m dying to finish this book that my friend recommended, if for no other reason but to prove I still know how to read. Okey, dokey, so I DON’T read. I don’t clean up the house, either. That would be boring.
Here’s all I can figure out that I do with my two hours every day:
1. Read the paper online – well, it’s not really reading, it’s more like looking at the pictures.
2. Talk on the phone to my mom (thankfully she’s always around for entertainment), or other various friends that don’t REALLY work. Fine, they work, but they have their own schedules.
3. Check out the stats of my blog.
4. Look on Craigslist for that ideal, perfect, someone will finally give me a chance, job getting paid for writing. So far I’ve applied to zilch.
5. Check emails.
6. Stalk my friends on Facebook.
And that’s it folks, I swear, I don’t think I do anything else. Every so often, I’ll nap, but that’s happening less and less. I should start a novel or something. I had a beginning of a book on the airplane the other day….”Ever get that feeling that you might be experiencing your last moments…” I got a little further than that, but I can’t read it because I had to scribble it in the white spots where there were no pictures of a Sky Mall magazine. So, maybe no novel, but I could at least try to read. It’s settled, then. Tomorrow I will commit to reading one page of my book.