My to do list is as long as my arms. On my to do list? Get longer arms.
I say that I'd like to get a personal assistant to help clean my house and organize my projects and respond to fan mail and things. Yesterday, I tried to recruit one of my twitter followers to follow me around in a ninja costume with a boom box and play the soundtrack to my life. He said it was fine so long as I called him Dobler. Dobler hasn't arrived. I'm disappointed.
It really amuses me that I spent all of college trying to get stalkers to stop following me, and now I spend all my time trying to get people to follow me online. I wish I had the phone numbers of those stalkers.
I really want to plant a zombie in the garden. I wouldn't have to weed it. And I'm really behind on my weeding, because Dobler isn't here to play a weeding song.
Now I'm brainstorming weeding songs.
I'm very close to finishing line edits on BAD HAIR DAY and the last round of before-the-agent edits on book number 3. So of course, last night, I dreamt about one of my other shelved projects. My subconscious has it out for me.
I miss the used bookstore where I used to live. Half Price Books, come to Michigan. Please. Or I will have to buy another bookcase.
What's up with you?