"Could I be Your Girl?"
I swear there's some creepy aetherial vibration that makes me pick up on these bizarre synchronicities at the strangest possible moments. Like when I'm making Swedish meatballs (with real Swedes!) for my mother-in-law and singing Jann Arden at the top of my lungs.
Well, I should really just chalk this week up to a wash, writing wise. Tomorrow, the boy and I are going to 'O' (courtesy of my job: it does have its perks) and then the midnight showing of some movie... *g* and then Friday is the boy's work Christmas party, and Saturday is the boy's birthday party....
And I got NOTHING done on Scardown today at all. At all! But I did get some Whisky & Water scribbled longhand in the car while running errands.
So despite all this, somehow the dancing around the living room singing along to Canadian folk singers at the top of my lungs and making the ginormous dogs jump and bark has left me incredibly bouncy and up. Obviously, I am not getting enough exercise.
Right! More dancing!
Poing! Poing! Poing! Poing!