I'm home sick from work today. The hubby and I went on a quick vacation to Punta Cana and had a marvelous time. I picked something up on the plane on the way back. No big deal. I'll spend the day in my jammies drinking too much hot tea and reading. Tomorrow, I'll be back at work.
However, today is becoming That Day, at least in terms of this blog. I just spent 30 minutes writing a post that I then deleted. I couldn't get the ideas to form correctly. In retrospect, I don't think I thought out the post very well ahead of time. I wanted to talk about taking risks with your writing and why it was completely worth it, but my arguments were not compelling.
My hope is that That Day stays relegated to this blog alone. The last time I had a real life That Day, I gave up and watched TV all day. You know That Day. It's the day that no matter what you do, you do it wrong. If you go for a run, you can only make it one block before you're huffing and puffing. If you go to clean a room, you make it dirtier by spilling cleaning chemicals everywhere. If you make lunch, you somehow manage to burn the soup.
That Day has killed people. That Day has ruined marriages, sent men to prison, and caused a war or two. That Day should be banned. That Day should be made corporeal so that we might burn it in effigy. That Day sucks.
I will post again soon, when That Day has passed and, hopefully, Banner Day has begun.