All right, you don't really want to hear all of that. You have overcrowded lives of your own. My point is that I didn't roll out of bed until nine o'clock, and halfway through a pot of English Breakfast tea and a cream-cheese-smeared hunk of banana-nut bread (I am not one of those women who begins dieting on January first--how could I when I always get a lovely box of Godiva chocolates for Christmas?) I realized today is a holiday for most workers.
So that's it. I'm taking (another) holiday, too. The new year can wait.
In the spirit of goofing off, here are three funny things:
- Jennifer Crusie's office is way messier than mine. Shoot, Jenny's office is way messier than anybody's. But I admire her electric blue walls and her striped yellow curtains.
- Somebody searched Yahoo yesterday for "well-adjusted writer" and was sent to my blog! That's right, I am the second result Yahoo returns for that particular search term. Clearly, somebody has screwed up somewhere.
- In this post I made a joke about being only a faux litblogger because I don't have Ron Hogan's home phone number. (You all know Ron, right? He's the man behind the curtain over at the excellent Beatrice.com.) Well, several days ago he sent me a courtesy e-mail and right there at the bottom of the message (I'm sure you meant to delete it, Ron, and just forgot) was his home address and telephone number.
Who will start the bidding at fifty dollars?