Few things kill fun faster than a forest fire.
I get it… it happens.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t sort of think that Mother Nature is a whore right now for killing that last little bit of summer but setting the better part of the western United States a blaze.
I had every intention of ‘getting my write on,” in a serious way this weekend. However, a solid week of smoke inhalation has me wheezing like an angry goat trapped in an iron lung. I’m quite sure that my inability to breathe with my mouth closed annoying both my boyfriend and our two fur babies Hank and Ruger. Hell… I’m annoying myself at the moment.
I am actually feeling marginally better today. Which is good because:
- I need/want to make some serious headway on my book.
- I need to go grocery shopping like a Mo’Fo’ as the fridge looks more like something you would find in a college dorm room instead of a thirty-something couples abode.
- I could really use a beer. Or some wine. It’s a toss up really.
With that… I am off to the store. When I return? Me and my one good nostril are going to hunker down in front of the computer with an adult beverage and all the ideas that have been itching to hit the page this last week!