Monday, March 11, 2013

The Cure for Writer's Block, a Filthy Bathroom, Soiled Laundry, and Much, Much More!

Friends! Romans! Countrymen....oh, wait, that's another blog post entirely. Sorry.

Friends! Romans (sure, why not?)! Fellow MS Bloggers! Lend me your ears (and some cash, if you're feeling especially generous -- HAHAHAHA! Watch out, David Letterman!). I've found the cure for writer's block! Ms. CrankyPants' Cure for Writer's Block (TM) is best illustrated with a picture of the item that today compelled me to:

  1. Do several loads of laundry
  2. Wash the shower curtain (had a bit of a mildewy smell, you know?)
  3. Vacuum (okay, it was the Roomba, but still)
  4. Clean the birdbaths
  5. Refill the birdfeeders
  6. Check the birdhouses for evidence of new nests
  7. Shred some documents
  8. Take a shower
  9. Clean the bathrooms
  10. Compose this brand-new post (breaking my week-long absence)

So, without further ado:

[&^*&(! photo is upside-down; please bear with me]

So, without further ado, take 2:

[Picture is now sideways; I wish I were doing this for comedic effect but I'm quite simply not.]

Ta-da (third time's always a charm!):

F*** it! I'll post the sideways one too; it's easier to read.
How incredibly annoying. This Blogger program makes adding pictures a bit...challenging. I'm willing to consider that it may be me, but only half-heartedly.
Anyway, this miraculous book, all 600 pages of it, forced me to do the nine chores above, as well as sit down to write a post. Why? Do you really need to ask? Okay, because on my to-do list today was Work Out a Savings and Investment Strategy. Are you asleep yet? Yes, it's an important task, blah blah, but FOR THE LOVE OF PETE it's boring! Even this jaunty-looking supplemental tome didn't help:

TK, if you're reading this, I...well, I'm sorry I never returned this book. I haven't read it, either, if that helps.
There's nothing quite like an appallingly dull task that makes other, slightly less dull tasks seem suddenly oh-so important. Plus, the ones I tackled provided immediate delightful results. Birds are now bopping around my feeder and no longer turning up their beaks at the birdbaths; I have clean underwear; the shower curtain no longer smells like a damp towel forgotten in the trunk of the car last week; I can walk around the house without having peculiar crumbs (at least, I hope they're crumbs) attach themselves to the soles of my feet; I can drop my toothbrush in the sink without feeling as if I should immediately boil it; the list goes on and on. What do I get from reading the two...zzzzzzzzzzz....oh, dear, sorry! I dozed off. Where was I? Oh, right. What do I...zzzzzzzzz. Blast! Sorry, this IS rude. Must.Stay.Awake. Maybe a separate paragraph will help.

Ah, yes. So, what do I get from reading the two books? Well, sure, a carefree retirement filled with traveling and, er, traveling and, ummm, well, you know. Stuff retired people do. Not worrying about money. And in my position -- someone with a massively expensive and progressive disease -- financial security is something I must take seriously. And plan for. Like, yesterday.

So these books are sitting right here next to me. Ooh, and right next to THEM is the remote. Plus, I just heard the dryer buzzer go off. I'll pop down for a quick check on the laundry, which I really should put away before it gets wrinkly. Ah, and I do need to make a pan of Swanky cornbread for dinner. I guess the books can wait 'til tomorrow.

By the way, if anyone wants to borrow Ms. CrankyPant's Cure for Writer's Block (TM), I'll happily lend you these books, and I'll even pay for shipping! No, really, I insist.


  1. I hear you. On nights when insomnia has me by the throat I get up and do the ironing. Well start the ironing. Well, sometimes I even turn the iron on. And what do you know? As soon as I do that I am exhausted and my eyes are closing. It works almost all of the time. And, on the rare occasions it doesn't I get a hated task out of the way. Win/win.
    Brilliant post. I am still snickering.

    1. Ironing. A loathsome task indeed. I hadn't considered that one! Maybe starting the retirement planning would compel me to do some long-overdue and much-needed ironing!

      p.s. hope you remember to turn off the iron when your eyes start closing!

  2. I have no idea what this 'money' you speak of is. Whenever some goes in to my bank account, The Teenager mysteriously syphons it off, the pest.
    As we speak, he is hopping around, putting forward several ideas as to why he absolutely must have a new pair of shoes. Today. Now.
    Anyway, I sympathise hugely. I have been meaning to plan an outstanding essay today. I have got as far as writing 'Essay' at the top of my page and doodling around it. And it's 3.30pm. But I had to fit in a sleep, I tried out a new recipe, I booted the cat outside and I also searched for jobs, meh.
    Anyway, enjoy!
    p.s. you have more than one bathroom? I am always so envious of you Americans. We must seem positively Dickensian to you guys?

    1. SIF,

      Did you tell the Teenager that when you were a child, you made do with ONE pair of shoes, winter and summer? And the walking uphill in blizzards, etc., etc.? Failing that, you might mention that spring is upon us and what could be more delightful than strolling around in bare feet on the dewy grass as robins peep overhead and tulips spring from the warm earth? After that, I'm out of ideas. Probably have to buy him the shoes...
      I believe the first word is the hardest, so by typing "Essay" you have the worst behind you! I'm sure it will be brilliant and I await it eagerly.
      Oh, dear, we have three bathrooms. Quite excessive and annoying to have to keep clean. Our house, honestly, is pretty small. And you don't seem Dickensian; more charming and quaint. Many homes here are sadly lacking in character. But we make up for lack of character with bathrooms! Yee-haw!

  3. I told The Teenager that before he left for town. He wasn't very impressed. I mean, what's so bad about flip-flops?
    Anyway, he has gone armed with my money and money for a Subway for dinner, such is my great parenting.
    I am very jealous of your three bathrooms, when I am forced to share a bathroom with The Teenager in our little 170 year old cottage, meh. It may be little, but it has rather wide window-sills! I am rather proud of them. They're like a foot thick. Is that rather sad to be showing off about?
    I am very pleased that I have made a great start on my essay. The essay of 3,000 words begins with one word and all that. However, sadly I am a girly-swot so this will keep me awake for the next three weeks.
    Gosh I'm bored. I want candy corn.

    1. Nothing wrong with flip-flops. Tell him Ms. CrankyPants said so. That will bring him around. :)
      See, wide windowsills and a 170 year old cottage sound lovely! Our windowsills are about 1 inch wide, meaning I can't cram anything on them. And the cats can't sit on them. Nothing to be sad about; I'd show off too.
      Go have a ginger beer and some Smarties! Candy corn pales in comparison.

  4. Just realised I have said 'rather' rather a lot. Where is my brain, and could I have it back?
    Must just say, loved your post, very funny. I've been in the house all day and am going stir crazy. Must plan something exciting for tomorrow, like washing the curtains or something.
    I am going to have a box of maltesers later, to reward myself for making a start on the essay....
    p.s. my house is called Holly Cottages, but want to rename it Bubble's Palace.

    1. Why thank you!
      I bet Bubbles is on board with that idea!
      Must google malteasers...

  5. I do not have to worry about financial planning at all. LOL. I have no income, and we live week to week on what Hubbers makes. I think we will be living in a closet at my daughter's house drinking tea and eating toast when Hubber's retires!

    1. Does your daughter have a shed (or even a lean-to) of some kind? We might be looking for a place in a few years. We'll bring our own bread and coffee...