El Groucho

Yesterday I was pooped.  Don't know why, what did I do? Sat in a car, walked a few blocks in a city, listened to live music, lunched in a fancy restaurant watching ice skaters and a mysterious SWAT team. (Mini road trip.)

So I did not do good work last night, of the writing sort. I did, essentially, no work of the writing sort.  It was of the staring sort. I stared at the draft in progress.  I stared at a previous draft. I copied and pasted chunks of both into a new document. I deleted a bit. I stared.

This might have made me grouchy, but it did not.  Besides, that personality quirk is reserved for El Groucho, my friend's ex, mentioned in yesterday's post, the reason for the road trip, the man from Tecala.

So I tried to read.  In bed.  You know where this is headed.  You'd think I might be able to focus on a book called Gourmet Rhapsody! Nope. More staring. Followed by snoring.

This staring-instead-of-writing-or-reading episode might have made me cranky, but it did not.  Otherwise, this might be Cranky Doodle Day, and I'd feel obliged to do some serious work, of the reading and writing sort, before I head out for some serious grocery shopping, for fear of feeling cranky all day long.

But I got a good night's sleep, woke up, and it's Slattern Day!!  I don't have to do a thing.  Well, yes, the grocery shopping.  And the hampers are awfully full.  And I do have some work hours to put in, due to the road trip yesterday.  And there's a major end-of-club-season volleyball tournament this weekend.  And some reviews must be written, and a mini-essay for a lit mag.  And dust still coats my entire life. But, other than that.... Oh, yes, and the moral of yesterday's poem echoes in my slatternly head!

But you know what? Blog readers, I hear, are somewhat slatternly on the weekends, too!

P.S. Which of these Muppets is HIV positive?