Bee Line

There are so many things that I'd like to write about every day, but I just don't allow myself the time. I say, hey there, now that's something worth writing about, that's something I'd like to look into at greater length. Sometimes they are mundane things--I just unwrapped a Hershey Hug that didn't have the little translucent Hershey ribbon and I felt let down. Sometimes they are profound things--kicking an addiction for Lent/life or coming to the realization that I still call my parent's house home. Sometimes I forget about them altogether. Sometimes they linger within my fingertips, waiting for the courage to type the letters that spell the truth.

Alas, the fact remains--I don't write enough. I don't have the time. I do have the time. Oh, really I do. I mean, I am absurdly busy, don't get me wrong, but I know that I spend at least twenty minutes a day doing something unproductive and asinine, when I could be writing, which is a great pleasure to me, and I will feel accomplished--like I did something worthwhile for myself.

It's getting late, just kidding, I lied, it's not really. I just needed a way to say goodbye right now because my bleary eyes are going cross and I feel a touch of the giddies coming on. I'd better subdue them. They're awfully persuasive. 

      

           oh, and
don't forget to eliminate free radicals.