November 27: Crushed-Up Doritos

Here I sit, eating some leftover Doritos from my daughter's school lunch, watching an SNL Thanksgiving special.  I really should be in bed, but I'm trying to get back into my normal blogging habits.  Two per day.

You know, being a writer isn't about writing a sonnet every day or outlining the great American novel.  It's about getting words down on the page.  That's what it's all about.  Words.  Not even good words.  Just words.

Tomorrow, I'm going to take another shot at my Christmas poem.  I've got an idea, but it's still just an idea.  Nothing concrete yet.

As you can tell, I really have nothing else to say tonight.  I'm tired.  Really tired.  My mind has already gone to bed, and my body is on autopilot.

Saint Marty apologizes for wasting your time with this post.

Don't read this anymore.  Go do something worthwhile.