Ok, I apologize. Perhaps the title of yesterday’s blog was inappropriate. It wasn’t my intention to hurt anyone with what I thought was humour. So, from the bottom of my heart, I apologize to testicles everywhere. I won’t degrade you like that ever again.

Laziness has settled itself like a fine dust over the ennui I’m feeling regarding The Book. This is not good. I have to start pushing myself more… I have to stop saying that I need to push myself more, and actually, you know, push myself more. I should make a deal with myself – write 5 pages, get ice cream. I like that deal! Then I can finally be the successful, corpulent writer I’ve always dreamed of becoming.

Wait, what?

Ok, ok… forget the corpulence and the ice cream, then.  Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Fine! I don’t care! You’ve never supported me anyway! YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD!

I… I don’t know what just happened there, but so far in this blog post I’ve apologized to nards, bribed myself with ice cream, and gone full-teenage-angst on my fake non-dad. Something tells me that Friday can’t come soon enough.

Oh! Speaking of Friday, apparently The Cheerleader I Live With is going to take me somewhere after work tomorrow, but I have no idea where. The big jerk won’t even give me any hints! What do YOU think? Where will I be going? What will I be doing? I wanna’ know, dammit!!

This weekend, I am going to write at least 5 pages. I am hereby promising you that. Ok? Ok.

And yes, I’m going to get ice cream.

And so should you.