If you follow this-here blog, which according to my stat tracker (which tells me things like 'what happens if you keep pretending to have sex with a pillow for years?' is a search string that brought one of you here, yes, I'm looking at you) is always shockingly more than I would have thought (although my expectations remain low as far as that's concerned), you would have noticed that I neglected to write yesterday.
Why? Because I was in the shit.
No, it's not another poop tub (the horror...the horror!), but a SlackDailyReader dropped out of the sky and offered me a monthlong freelance copyediting/writing gig. Why yes, I said, I'd be happy to, and I did the little Freelance Dance of Glee (which is similar to Will's Naked Dancing Shaving Cream Man, but minus a penis). Monday morning at 6:30am (said job is on the Right Coast) found me posterior plastered to couch and prepared to copyedit 'til the cows came home.
Which I did. On over three hundred pages.
As I added periods and removed dashes and corrected spelling and eyeballed formatting, I stashed away a bevy or fecal funnies to be hauled out for blogtime. But then it was 4:30pm and I needed to shower and walk a WonderDog and head to Job #2. 9pm found me returning home, exhausted and sweaty and headachy. A few moments with Mr. Boy and then I crawled back into bed to start the process all over again.
I adore feeling useful. It's even better when I'm getting paid for it. And poop? Icing on the cake.
And now for something completely different:
Occasionally I am asked about my 'process' when it comes to writing scripts or creating pitches to sell. My process is that I sit down and write something. I don't really talk about it, because I find talking about writing - much like writing about writing - insanely boring.
I feel the same way about blogging in that this is such an inherently navel-gazing medium that the desire to get all meta about it seems beyond self-indulgent. But I'm going to indulge for just a moment.
People have been cropping up everywhere complaining about how boring Will and I are, or how they're sick of hearing every last detail of our relationship.
My question is: who's forcing you to watch?
Are there Detective-Agency-Camps where you're strapped down, Clockwork-Orange style and made to endure hours and hours of me babbling into the camera or Will musing about midgets? Yes, I know about trolls but do they not understand that even if you don't like us, you feed our ego by watching? Reading? Paying attention? The response is usually akin to you suck so much that I can't look away which trust me, I totally understand (helloooo hatecrush!)
But in Blogland, there's no such thing as a bad touch.
I can only assume that said people haven't figured out how to close their browser window or tabs, so I've included a handy keyboard-shortcut reference guide below.
Internet Explorer: Ctrl-W will close the current window.
Firefox: Apple-W will close the current tab.
Safari: Apple-W will close the current tab.
You can call me boring and dumb and fat and ugly and unfunny...but don't ever say that I don't care!