And then she woke up...

You know how this goes. Every time I’ve been absent from my blog for quite some time, I always say that I’ve just been “too busy”. It’s true, too. I can honestly say that I’ve just been too busy to write blogs. But nobody wants to hear that. It sounds lame and cliché and unapologetic. What to do, what to do?? And the thing is…I HATE not having time to write. The worst part of it is (like anything else) is that the longer I stray from it, the harder it is to pick it up again. I guess that’s one of the guarantees about life that we can’t escape. Absence…nonactivity…neglect…always heeds an awkward return. We expect to be welcomed back by whatever it is we abandoned like a cheating, unfaithful whore; crawling on all fours while wailing about our intended innocence. Well, here I am again, my absolving blog. The knees of my khakis are filthy, indeed.

Other than writing (my first to-be-published work, preferably), there are SO many other things I’d be doing (either in the immediate present, or in the ongoing) if I didn’t have to spend between 8 and 14 hours working 5 days a week.

Things I Would Be Doing if I Didn’t Have to Work

Reading through the stack of novels I have at home that REALLY do look very interesting. I attempt to read them before bed quite frequently, but I usually manage to fall asleep with the lamp…and my glasses still on.

Traveling. Let’s ignore the fact that if I was, in fact, not working, I’d have absolutely no money and would, therefore, not be able to travel anywhere, ever. Actually, let’s ignore that fact for the duration of this list.

Working out with a personal trainer on a daily basis in efforts to attain and maintain a rock star body.

Learning how to use chopsticks. Apparently, I need at least 5 hours a day to devote to mastering this skill. My wonderful boyfriend pretends to not find my lack of skill pathetic even though his patient coaching hasn’t yet amounted to much improvement. (It’s humiliating to always be the white girl at the table who has to ask for a fork.)

Dancing in public.

Planting and tending to a fabulous garden. If I had somewhere to plant one, that is.

Collecting Fraggle Rock memorabilia.

Watching all the great “classics” that I’ve just never had time to watch. Wait. Scratch that. Most of the “classics” I’ve missed, I’ve never cared to watch in the first place. Which is the real reason why I haven’t. Let’s replace this one with watching the “American Pie” series. That’s more realistic.

Straightening my priorities.

Brainstorming new and more creative names for the colors of Crayola crayons. They wouldn’t even have to pay me. (i.e. indigo= “blueberry parade”, apricot= “clammy flesh”, yellow green= “acidic pee”, and dandelion= “buttery nipple”) Although, I suppose it’s not appropriate to refer to a liquor shot when naming a child’s educational tool.

Spending time with my nieces before they cease to call me “Aunt Al” and start referring to me as “that funny lady that used to be Daddy’s sister”.

Elaborately painting my toenails to represent and correspond with every national holiday.

Watching the clouds.

Flipping turn-of-the-century houses for profit.

Rescuing abandoned and orphaned children from all over the world and sending them to live with Oprah…or maybe even her friend, Gayle.

Hugging strangers.

Mastering the guitar. And then playing it for no one but the people I love. (Bridget included.)