March 20, 2014
Dear Java Fueled Journaling,
It is nearly five in the morning. Four hours ago I woke up — couldn’t go back to sleep — really wired now. Sleep beckons, sleep cries out, sleep screams for me to succumb. No such luck. Time soon to get ready for work.
Yesterday was misery. I was in no uncertain terms a freaking miserable
f$$k Δexpletive captured, tracked and deleted by the F(ederal) T(hought) P(latoon)Δ. Still not in much better shape. Coffee…the fuel of champions…my totem…keeps me going — price to pay though with too much of it. And I do too much of it every single expletive day.
Check out that slick use of the word of the day in the last paragraph. Somebody help me…please. I am good. That last sentence needs an awesomely thought of preposition about how good I really am, but yesterday’s misery and over four hours of java-fuel and the preposition-thinking-of part of my brain did succumb to sleep. It left the rest of us behind.
Time to go. I’ll check in tomorrow. Love ya mean it.
All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know. ~Ernest Hemingway
Let’s be perfectly honest here – gut wrenching, bone jarring, teeth gnashing, I ain’t lying honest – maybe five people in the whole known universe might be interested in reading my memoirs, abbreviated or not. That being said, because this is WordPress and WordPress challenged me to write this, if I don’t get at least a thousand likes or comments from the billions of WordPress readers, I am going to stab myself in my left thigh with this pencil. Just watch me, I’ll do it, I really will allthewaytothe BONE!!!
They Called Me Shorty
Brn. 1955 AND. Raised AND, GMU, ORD, and Lbrty. Educ. LES, LHS, UMUC. Jnd. USN 1974.
Wait a minute here. Hmmmmmm…[Reading the instructions again]
OMG. Gee whillikers. Well blow me down! and pick me up. I got this all wrong. Why didn’t someone tell me? My poor old befuddled drug-addled brain just now got wrapped around this. They didn’t mean abbreviations, they meant abbreviated, as in maybe shortened. Did I get that right? [Calling Erica……….] Yep, she confirmed it. I really made a mess of it this time. Maybe it’s time for the pencil in the thigh anyway. I need to think about this.
So Erica’s instructions are to write “at least one post” for this challenge. Since this one is pretty much rubbish; since I am leaving soon for the doctor; since the pencil in my thigh is really starting to hurt; I’ll continue in another post at another time in another time-space plane.
Maybe the doctor can defuddle and unaddle my brain.