I don’t even have the energy for a full-length sentence.
Take yesterday – the kid and I wandered around Ikea looking for things we might need (even though I don’t particularly like that flimsy flat-packed-impossible-to-assemble stuff), ate a dissatisfying cafeteria meal, and went home with a $6 pack of candles, vanilla scented . Then, while she napped I read – or I should say ‘sucked down’ – a Nora Roberts paperback instead of writing the brilliant article that’s been banging around inside my head.
Days like these, I just love Nora Robert’s novels. They’re chocolate for my mind. Don’t tell anyone. Seriously, the woman is brilliant and by my reckoning as rich as Zeus, or at the very least JK Rowling. I’m tempted to google her and find out just how many thousands of books she’s published, but that might be too much effort right now. I’ve read maybe two dozen of them, just for research purposes you understand, and they’re all the same but still manage to draw the reader in and deliver that delicious thrill all the way through.
You gotta admire a writer who can do that. Even if she never wins the literary prizes she gets the Prada prize. I know which I’d rather have.
Anyway, I’m a little restless and at the same time completely happy to do nothing else but anything that makes me feel good.
I encourage you to do the same.