It was suggested to me by my ass that I write you to inquire about my lack of motivation. Although my ass was giving me major attitude – and really, many of my body parts have been giving me attitude lately, I feel that things would all run more smoothly if I had more motivation. I would think (but granted you do my thinking for me) that now that I have three children to care for and a book deadline looming that I would spend my time working hard. Yet when I sit down to actually write something more important (read: less important) takes precedent. For example, I was just getting into the chapter that needs to be turned in to my editor TODAY when I realized that I should just get an entry done to my blog every so quickly. Then in the middle of writing this post, I noticed an ad on AOL for Alternative to Open Back Surgery and had to click on it. Brain, why did I do this? My back is one of the few body parts I have zero issues with as of late. Why would I possibly feel compelled to hear about alternatives to surgery that I don’t even need? You must have some rhyme or reason for my thought process. But is there anyway you could keep me on the straight and narrow? Damn it, I just clicked onto Overstock.com to find an Ariel backpack for Elby. She doesn’t need the backpack today – not nearly as bad as my editor needs some semblance of work from me. Plus, we both know Elby won’t even give a shit about Ariel by the time school starts in September.
Brain, I’m begging you. Please allow me to prioritize. And please please can you have a talk with my ass because he will not listen to reason.
If this isn’t your juristiction can you aim me in the right direction? Is there a suggestion box somewhere in my body or a human resource dept?
Surfing the Web until you respond,