My brain is an asshole…

I’ve been getting a lot of questions lately about what the book I’m writing is going to be about. I’d like to be really honest with you all.

I have no idea.

I wrote an outline, did a little table of contents action, and then I proceeded to toss that onto the pile of shit I’m not going to ever look at again. At this point I am just writing and praying I can get it together so you all don’t get a book with random doodles in it and a chapter of Lola selfies.

Unless that’s what you want, in which case, that book is done!

Nevertheless, I know what this book will not be. It will not be a fictional novel. I tried to start that and then I gave up completely. Evidently, working with children takes up all my creative thinking and there’s not enough left over to complete a novel. I’m going to postpone that to the day that I don’t have to work anymore.

Oh boy, that novel is a ways off. Thanks for depressing me, brain, you couldn’t just wait a few more days to make me feel awful?! At least on the weekends I can stare at the TV, while sitting in my pajamas and drooling so I don’t have to expend any effort to swallow. No, you depress me on a Thursday when you know I still have to function.

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