I’m tired, and being the doctor/nurse/assistant/maid to a sick parent is some mean busy work. It seems like when there’s a groove to get things done, I find myself stopping to get the main duties done. The phone itself goes off like this is the President’s office. I write this hoping that it stays quiet. My brain hurts. Told myself to drink a lot of water as well. Why? I drank to much sugar-based drinks, and I want to balance that with something else. Leave it to me to think of my health in the midst of taking care of someone else.
Did a lot of late, late night writing, and I suppose that’s what needs to be done. Had plans to write this morning, but I felt a bit constipated in the brain. Where did my mojo go? Perhaps I’ll have to wait until later today. For the moment, it seems I can’t do much. Let’s start with a blog post. A post gets my mind going. I sincerely feel like laying down and not writing. Of course, the moment it happens, I’ll hear the phone go off.
The reason for the title was my own view on Valentine’s Day, which has been, well, bratty, disruptive, mixed with some scorn, and sarcasm. So my “boooo to love” campaign has been hilariously silly, which is par for the course for me. Sometimes I think I should express more of my bratty side. That l’enfant terrible persona really gets out, and doesn’t give a damn if you approve or don’t. I did it cause it pleased me, and I’d do it again. I miss that aspect of my persona being on all the time. Perhaps I need to express it more. It would be the remedy to my articles from yesterday on what to do with fear of creating.
As always, happy creative endeavors, and make a hot mess and leave it there. People gotta deal with it, or go home.