blockage

The wit.

The humor.

The sap.

The snark.


All stuck behind the mass of humdrum that is currently filling my head. Clever snippets flit by and I grab at them, but am forced to release them or get trapped by my clenched fist in the raccoon trap blahness that my brain has become.* Because I'm fairly certain that reliving and revealing the number of loads of laundry I did today is not going to make for scintillating reading, no matter how the retelling might be punctuated with wry commentary. And? That there were no unmatched socks at the end of said laundry loads? That being the highlight of my day? Is making for a crapitude of flaming bag o' poo bloggary. Turds, all of 'em. Just waiting to be lit in a moment of filter failure and then placed on your virtual doorstep seconds before GoogleReader presses your blog-bell. I'm keeping my post-happy fingers on a short leash, waiting for some literary fiber to come clear me out.

Please, watch where you step. One way or another, I'm afraid it's going to be messy in here for a while.

*Let the fact that I've spent the last 45 minutes rewriting and rewording this sentence and it still in no way resembles the poetic brilliance of the mental snapshot** that I am trying to put into word form serve as further proof of how not-feeling-it I am.

**Complete with fluffy raccoons! And mason jars! And bright, shiny objects that the sweet little masked balls of fluff refuse to let go of in the bottom of the mason jars so that the combination of their refusal to let go and their sweet furry fists have effectively trapped them! And somehow they are unable to simply take off with the mason jars! Despite the reality of raccoons probably not being attracted to shiny objects, what with their nocturnal nature and all, and the whole "being so much bigger than the average mason jar that should Sweet & Furry ever find himself in such a predicament, he could surely just run off WITH the mason jar ON his fist, take it back to his lair, smash it there, and THEN enjoy the bright, shiny object of his desire" thing! I never said the snapshot made sense! Just that it was poetic! Am stopping now before my ability to use other forms of punctuation is completely eradicated!



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6 comments:

Lora said...

if it makes you feel better, I was thinking of you moments before checking my googlereader and thanking god that you told me about the little magna doodle toy. Pure genius.

I miss you tons.

susan said...

Oh, Lora, how I miss you!!! Yay, magna doodle... the perfect art option for the borderline OCD mom!

annenahm said...

I find you and your turds quite interesting, actually.

annenahm said...

Not that they are 'turds' per se - what, gems most the time.

annenahm said...

Alllll alll the time. Gemmy goodness.

susan said...

Anne,hee hee! Gemmy goodness... why, oh why does that make me crave little powdery donuts?! Must...be...strong...

Meanwhile, I'll just keep polishing away at the drafts I have yet to post. No expectation of finding a Baby J, of course... that was simply blogging gold!