Absolutely No Idea

Well, well, well. Well, well. WELLLLLLL! I am just sitting here without a clue as to what I'm going to write this morning. I have no ideas. I tried during the night when I was awake. I tried this morning before getting up. I just lay there in bed, eyes closed, taking deep breaths, thinking hard. As hard as I could think, I thought. I thought about the story from yesterday and about stories in general but I couldn't come up with anything new. I am just tapped out.

Emptiness. That's what I'm looking at ahead of me. Just plain emptiness, as far as the eye can see. Wait, what's that over there? Behind that thing there. Oh, I see it now. It's emptiness, that and a little nothing. But you can't see the nothingness very well because the emptiness is so vast and imposing that the nothingness is swallowed by a kind of vacuumly darkness and void. I think that covers my morning so far.

I'll tell you how it's going since you ask, I poured two glasses of orange juice while I emptied the dishwasher this morning. I ended up drinking both and that will probably save my life at some point today.

I'll be driving back from taking Ashton to the driving school and Al Quaeda will set off an IED by the minimart and it will be filled with poison pellets of Tripolyphediablistic Martoridan, which is a poison we'll abbreviate as TM, for the sake of simplicity. I mean, I have enough trouble typing the names of real things. Why should I spend any effort getting that right twice?

Anyway, it will be obvious what's wrong with me when the doctor in the ER sees me and he'll say something like, "Poor Devil, unfortunately, he'll never make it. TM's effects can only be countered by ingesting at least two glasses of orange juice PRIOR to being exposed to the TM, and no one ever had two glasses of OJ with breaky."

You see how I made the doctor more human by adding individualistic eccentricities to his speech? Breaky, get it. It means breakfast, but because he's an individual he... Oh never mind. It's an artistic thing that writers do. You dunce!

So I've drug or dragged this out as far as I really should. I better had get on with the day's writing after I go to the bathroom that is.

Love and Kisses, Quack Quack Quack!

More later,