What I Wrote Yesterday
I wrote a post yesterday. It was supposed to be the rough draft to send to my Congressmen about the auto bailout. Oviously, I didn’t post it nor did I send it. You may ask, Why? Did I chicken out? Did I suddenly see the light and want to help Detroit? Not on your like.
My damn blog (or the server) spun its wheels endlessly when I tried to save it. I hoped some instance was left of it somewhere, but it’s gone and not a trace remains. Why can nothing go right? Both my computers are slow, with my desktop really acting up in weird ways. My TV doesn’t read DVDs anymore. I have a pile of boxes in y minute living room and I can’t pack them because I don’t know if I have a home yet. My lease is coming to an end. The shoes I ordered from Zappos were busted and they have no replacements for the color and size I want. Damn it all to hell. When you’re this stressed, little things like the shoes are enough to push you over the edge. Now I have to go out to the street with the huge box to ail it back! I don’t care if it doesn’t cost me money. There comes a time when money doesn’t matter because the inconvenience is so much! I hate exclamation points but I’m using them. I’m also wondering what a full-service mover costs because if I move at the end of this month, I will have no time to do it. I am out of time, the weather’s gone to hell and I’m exhausted and have no time to do this crap anymore. Don’t people get it? Don’t they get how terrible their so called small mistakes add up to an avalanche of grief the rest of us who cannot afford assistance just can’t deal with anymore.
P.S. The novel’s coming along. But, once again, the updated version is on my desktop and I don’t have it to add to it right now.So I’ll have to start writing cold, which is extraordinarily hard to do. I will try to remember not to overwrite the older, yet more complete file on the desktop tonight when I try to add the new stuff from today to it.
P.P.S. I realize all of this makes no sense.

