isn’t that a song

If I were a writer… I’d be as big as a house. It’s crunch time and my story is so in the beginning stages that it’s painful. I realize I have no idea what I’m doing and yet, I kinda love it. In preparation for procrastination I went to the grocery store because I decided that I needed bubbly water in order to coax the writing muse. Because sitting down to write without bubbly water is just stupid, apparently. It turns out my muse likes ice cream and Pepperidge Farm cookies and donuts. I’ve sat here and heard the muse call for more and more Pepperidge Farm cookies. Its favorite so far is the Tahiti, coconut and chocolate in a cookie! My muse was happy. And thus I went about writing about a still birth and the suicide of a narrator. I like to think of it as “death by chocolate.”

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