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I Am Enjoying 7 Deadly Zins

I have observed this phenomenon many times, in fact, almost every month as my deadline for Mohawk Valley Living magazine approaches: I can’t write the article, I can’t write the article, I can’t write the article, I write the article.  Don’t know why it works that way.  Don’t know how to change it.  But there it is.  I spent time at work and after work writing said article.  I got it emailed out.  I hope it is accepted.

Some readers (and you KNOW who you are) are currently rolling their eyes, thinking, “Now she’s going to explain that this is why she is offering a foolish blog post tonight.  AGAIN.”  In my defense, at least it is a different excuse from my usual.  In my detriment, it is the same excuse as last month about this time, and multiple months before that.  All I can say is, judge me if you are so inclined.

As a matter of fact, on part of my lunch and my last break, I did write part of a blog post, a rather lengthy, almost scholarly, yet witty and entertaining…  I am probably flattering myself.  At least I was enjoying writing it.  It was actually a kind of a book report, a summary with comments of a book I read a number of years ago.  I started thinking about it, as I have thought about it off and on during the many years since I read it (some books effect you that way).  It was a book about women that made something of a splash as a statement of the times.  I would love to write a book about women that makes a splash as a statement of our times.  Not that book, or indeed, one like it.  The gist of my musings was what I didn’t like about the book.

But I must not get bogged down in telling you about that, or there will be no point in sharing my commentary if and when I finish it. But I wanted you to know that I AM writing again.  To an extent.  One must start somewhere, after all.  Or re-start, as the case may be.  In any case, I am over 300 words.  I call that respectable for a foolish post.  All I have to do is think of a catchy title and I think I’ve got a decent Non-Sequitur Thursday.  Thank you for tuning in.


Words Before Wine

I’m not having a particularly wrist-to-forehead Sunday, although I did have kind of a wrist-to-forehead run earlier. However, I am having a kind of a wrist-to-forehead moment right now. You see, I must pick Steven up from work for a Wine Tasting Event in about twenty minutes (it became 19 as I typed that). It would be a good idea to make my blog post now.


What a silly thing to say; of course I can. For one thing, the pressure is purely self-imposed. I can remove it at any time. For another thing, when it comes to writing, I thrive on pressure! I never wrote a paper in school one minute before I had to. Then I stayed up late, scribbling frantically. And the best essays I ever wrote in my life were on exams, writing against the clock, once with a screaming headache due to strep throat.

Ah, those were the days.

On reflection, I must admit that I have no idea if those essays were the best I had ever written or not, because I no longer have access to them and I certainly don’t remember what I wrote (although I did ace the exams in question). Regarding the paper, not having a basis for comparison, we can’t be sure the papers would not have been better with more time taken.

This is not the post I sat down to write. I had meant to write about how I did almost everything on my to-do list. Except write this blog post. Wait a minute, maybe it is exactly the post I sat down to write. Ah, deadlines.

At any rate, I am over 250 words. I’m going to go taste some wine.