Some days, things work out as you planned them.
Other days, your computer shuts down and the (really good) blog (that you wrote seven hours earlier but didn’t save) completely disappears (great time for auto save to not work) and you remember the gist of it but not the exact brilliance and you find yourself staring (simultaneously) at a blank screen and a clock (the blank screen is mocking and the clock is insistently reminding you that time is marching toward deadline) and you realize you have No Ideas but need to find something.
Guess which category my day fell into yesterday?
This is also the tale of the ideas, all the ideas in the world, correction: all the ideas in the known universe (and possibly beyond) taking a vacation far beyond the reaches of human kind (and by human kind I mean me). The nasty part of me hopes they forgot sunscreen and get burned. The nicer part of me hopes they have a lovely time and come home having multiplied exceedingly.
This is not The Tale of Despereaux, or the tale of soup, or even the tail of a tale. It is not a tall tale or the Tale of Two Cities, or even the tale of a small hamlet for that matter. It is nothing from which hangs a tale or that can ride on coat-tails. It is not a fairy tale or a tail that wags a dog or even two shakes of a lamb’s tail. It is not pony tails or pig tales or ox tails (which may be good for soup, but never made it as a hairstyle). It may be something, but I can’t make heads or tails of it, so you shouldn’t even try.
Typing this with my tail between my legs. Or I would be if I had a tail. But I don’t. If I did, I’d probably write about it.
Hope you are bright eyed and bushy-tailed today.
P.S. Feel better, Mom!