Wherein I blame a popular '70s horror novel and my father for not having anything to blog about

To anyone who happens by this blog on their way to a useful destination like The Wrinkle-Proof Diet for your Skin article, thank you for your total and unnecessary kindness. Your visit here is akin to stopping by your obnoxious uncle’s place a couple of weeks after his divorce becomes final. I'm collecting cobwebs and smelling of stale beer. It feels a little like it needs a shower and some coffee, doesn’t it? Maybe some electric shock treatment for good measure. I’m just stagnant. No good, noteworthy reason, either. Just stagnant. If I were to summarize my current state of affairs into a mathematical formula, it would look something like this: 4 coughing, sneezing kids + approximately 30 mesmerizing ants in an ant farm + 1 unfinished novel – 1 handy husband and a working brain (because mine’s taken a jaunt to the state of Inertia) = 67 loads of laundry, 5 sets of chapped noses, one major disdain for my day job and a flagrantly neglected blog.

Let’s play the blame game, shall we? Yes, I think we shall. I blame the nice weather. It makes birds sing and trees bloom and mothers who are supposed to be sitting at their NONmobile computers all loathsome of life. I blame my dad, too. He had books like Shogun, Chesapeake, Sacajawea, The Exorcist, The Thorn Birds, The Clan of the Cave Bear, and Jonathan Livingston Seagull piled up in my bedroom, near the toilet, on the kitchen table and next to the TV. Maybe if it weren’t for the fact that we had ten times more books than toys lying around, I wouldn’t be such a STAGNANT person who’s now terrified of young girls with heads spinning that projectile vomit split pea soup. I blame Freakonomics, as well. It has convinced me that I, too, can have more books than toys lying around. Piled next to the TV, and in my kids’ bedroom, and on the kitchen table and haphazardly tossed in the backseat of my car, too. Because Freakonomics says it’s good for kids to be surrounded by those squarish objects filled with sheets of printed paper. Well… it’s good for them if you don’t count the fact that it can make them kinda STAGNANT later in life.

So I will be back… when I have something a smidgen more positive to say to or ABOUT this perilous world we live in. OR when I finish the laundry. You know… whichever comes first.