Today was another day to run away from writing. I convinced myself that I couldn't wait another week with only one black ink cartridge left. Yes, each one lasts approximately three months and I changed it a week ago, but I like to be prepared, and my color cartridges started tripping the "low ink" warning, which means I'll have to use my last back up of color ink cartridges. Gah! It's a never ending cycle.
Regardless of my neurosis, it became the perfect opportunity to run away from home for a few hours. Most people think running away from home isn't a big deal, they do it every day. Work and people beckon and they put on their heavy coats and trudge out into the elements with a grumble. I work at home via an internet connection and phone line. When I'm not working my real job, I attempt to write, at least I have for the last year.
Getting outside gives me perspective. Time behind the wheel disappears in a mix of too loud music and plot holes filling themselves in. Sometimes it's filled with random garbage and obscene comments to poor drivers, but no one is perfect!
I ventured into the dreaded warehouse club that had the lowest ink price and ended up cutting another one and a half stops out of my trip entirely. Yes, it was worth it. $300 later, and my eyes jumping out of their sockets when the credit card bill arrives not withstanding, this trip was a complete success. Not only did I restock my ink supply, but they began carrying my brand and style of toilet paper. Some might say this is insignificant. TP is TP, as long as it does the job, who cares? Not so, my friend! It has to be the right mix of durability and softness and thickness so as to do a commendable job without clogging the pipes. Oh, and can I say, another club store discovery, Salted Caramel Cocoa, you may have been the find of the day!
The second stop saved me another half of a stop by having an in store special on my cereal of choice.
This opened up an entire hour slated for driving through cluttered parking lots, playing chicken with other drivers and pedestrians who believe they are they only mobile beings in a lot filled to the brim. Add another thirty minutes of good fortune to miss the "oh my god, it's 20 degrees and a snowstorm is coming" doom preppers clogging checkout lanes.
With added time and good spirits, my car found it's way to a local chain restaurant. Four course meal? No problem. Until the creamy potato soup became my undoing. Rich and filled with bacony goodness, I wanted a vat to swim in. But alas, the salad came, as did the biscuits, then the entrée, and finally, dessert. It was a caramel kind of day and lunch was topped off with a piece of caramel cheesecake.
I drove home with the lovely thought of my one and only reader, agonizing over an upcoming character death, (Yes, I enjoyed her pain, I am that evil!) and vowed to spend the hours before the playoff basketball game writing toward The End. I reworked an entire paragraph. And played online. And coordinated late dinner plans that rivaled a military invasion. Now, I'm blogging.
Forty-five minutes left to write. Let's hope tomorrow is a better day. Or that I don't procrastinate until the new Walking Dead. Happy weekend everyone, and no one, whoever you may be.
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