Normally, I would just pop my meds and wait for the mellow to hit, but
since it’s not my brain stinking up the joint with doomsday-ness I’m at a bit
of a loss.
No, I can’t even blame the four-legged, furry muse for this one. She’s
tucked and stuffed and snoring at my side. No ill inklings coming from that
quarter.
So, where, oh where are the fateful undertones coming from?
Um, well, that would be my printer.
See, my printer is neglected. Terribly. I’m literally going to have to
Swiffer it off before I turn it on. So, I suppose, a little nerves at the
prospect of printing out the entire first draft of a honking-huge novel is
reasonable, but…
I could really use some team spirit from the office supplies, ok?
Yes, yes, I know that paper jams and ink shortages are on the horizon,
but there is no need for apocalyptic thoughts.
Really.
I promise on those four horsemen coming over the hill.
Great. Now, I’ve caught the leeries.
Run.
Save yourselves.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
