Slug

OMG people, today I really outdid myself. If there were an Olympic medal for sloth, I'd have won the gold.

That's right--instead of reading this blog, you should be shaking salt on me, so I could put us out of our misery by dissolving into slug goo.

I'm not just a slug, I'm a giant banana slug. Honestly, I belong on a Santa Cruz t-shirt.

I'll be better soon. I promise. Because Susie Sunshine expects me to be entertaining and chatty when we all get together at Blackbird's. She told me so. In fact, she tweeted it in in front of the entire internet. She probably hoped shame would get my adrenaline flowing. And adrenaline might kickstart what's left of my brain.

Now, you and I know she's being overly optimistic. But maybe, if I manage to get out of my pajamas--and my house--before noon. I might. Actually. Have a thought. Or two. Worth sharing.
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OH! I just thought of one. And this is so hilarious!

I won a contest on We Covet. The prize was a copy of Sex and the City: The Book. So tonight, after the kids went to bed, I read the entire thing. (This isn't saying that much, since it's mostly pictures.)

Now why did I do this, considering I've never watched the t.v. show, and therefore have no real interest in the movie?

I did it so that if someone starts talking about the movie, I can say "I never saw the movie, but I read the book."

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Have I ever mentioned that my doctoral dissertation was on film adaptations? And I actually had somewhat intelligent things to say? I mean, my dissertation adviser was deeply scary and at times I think she thought I was a complete buffoon, but even she admitted that once in a while I came out with something halfway decent in the way of scholarship.

Just think--I'm not a buffoon any more! Because I've become a banana slug.