But not really. I'm at the Prof's house, and it's lovely and tranquil and all is well, except…I have horrible writer's block. It's paralyzing. I have so much to talk about and absolutely no connection between my brain and my typing fingers.
I could talk about the play, and all the ridiculousness involved. I could talk about the trip to Syracuse, which…WAIT! I've got it!!!! Here's how I spent my four hours on the way to Syracuse:
ME: Are we there yet? I have to pee. Do we have enough gas? I'm bored. Are we there yet? When do I get to see a cow? I thought there were cows in upstate New York! What about piggies? If you don't answer me, I'll go through all of "Old McDonald Had a Farm" till you do. You know that McDonalds we had a couple of miles ago? It didn't agree with me. Is it time for MY iPod yet? I'm bored. Are we there yet? Where's the Red Bull? Yes I know I've had three, what's your point?
The Prof: (thinking) I could have lashed her to the roof, that would have worked too.
Oh, did I mention that I haven't had a cigarette in a week? That might have something to do with it as well.
I need another lollypop.
More tomorrow, kittens. I swear.