Hello peeps. Today I have a funny little story. It will likely only be funny to me, but some of you might be as goofy as I am, so here you go.
The past couple of days, I’ve been trying to get back into the writing routine I was in during the first half of the year. To those of you who don’t know, from January to June, I got up at 5 am to write. I’d do three-to-four thirty minute rounds, averaging about 1,500 words a day, no problem, and then spend the rest of the day reading and spending time with my family. It rocked. I wrote three novels in that time. Now I have four books waiting in the wings on publisher acceptance or editing or release dates.
Lately, though, my alarm clock hasn’t been waking me up, and I couldn’t figure out why. It was on and set properly. The volume on my tablet was maxed out. So why wasn’t I waking up? I had no idea.
The past week, since I’ve been trying to get back on my writing schedule, I’ve been having these crazy-realistic post-apocalyptic dreams. They were easily explained, I thought, what with Trump heading for the white house like an unwelcome and overgrown erection bearing down on a constricting anus. On top of that, I’ve been playing a lot of Fallout 4. I started playing the game earlier this year, but projects got in the way and that game is not something you can play on the side. It takes all your attention if you want to really enjoy it. An hour of game-time just ain’t gonna do it, ya feel me?
But then, this morning, I set my alarm for a minute ahead of the current time and sat and waited for it to go off. For some odd reason, my alarm tone had been set to this:
Yeah. I’m a dumbass. Anywho, I hope changing my alarm tone to something more ear-splitting will help me wake up. At the very least, maybe I’ll stop dreaming about the end of the world.
See you tomorrow,
Pic of the Day
Photo work by the lovely Nettie Neal Bell