I had such huge plans for this blog post, really I did.

After a very exciting evening last night where the DH and I enjoyed witty repartee with one of my creepy cousins and his significant other, I was going to go out, grab the teeniest "outfit" I could find, lip-synch with a self-imposed time-delay and then gyrate around on a stage like I've ingested a weapon of gas infliction.

Then I realized Britney did that already.

So I decided to go for Plan B: find a homeless person, take him on a shopping spree and set him up with some rent money.

Then Colin Farrell beat me to it.

And that got me thinking. About how much time I spend thinking about doing things instead of doing them. I know, I know, I'm totally having a theme week over here but I'm really feeling like I've fallen and I can't get up. I should be totally pumped about getting back into the Write-Ons' saddle (which I am, in part, really) but there's this blechness surrounding me that's blocking the silver lining.

This will pass, I'm sure. Perhaps I just need to go find a swing set...or hug the kitten some more. ;)

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