The Puddinette laid some smack down last night. See, she has this habit of checking on me before snuggling into bed, which she typically does long before I call it a night myself, lest the uncontrollable aural jackhammer of snoring caused by my heinously deviated septum keep her from ever falling asleep. Now, I know we’ve been over this before, but seriously, I wouldn’t even share a room with me. There have been recordings of my snoring. I’ve heard them. I keep expecting someone to use them as sound effects in the next Apocalypse-type movie.
Anyway, before she drifted off to dreamland last night, she asked what I was doing. At the moment I was watching “The Adjustment Bureau” and enjoying the surprising fact that the air conditioning was off. A few windows had even been thrown open to welcome the sudden gusts of fall-like chill. If you ever told me I’d turn my air conditioning off on Labor Day, I’d have laughed at you and suggested you go follow the leprechauns you were undoubtedly seeing too.
At any rate, the Puddinette accused me of allowing my brain to become mush. She was just pulling my chain, of course, but said that I needed to get back on the stick. For months and months, every time she’d checked in with me before bed, I’d been writing. The past week or so, though, apparently I’ve been doing nothing but watching TV. I can tell she’s right, too, because I’ve cycled through three DVDs from Netflix in a week and have almost caught up with the four series I DVR.
It’s kind of distressing, I tell you. I’m a bag of Lays and a grease-stained strap-tee shirt away from becoming your stereotypical couch potato. And that’s just no good.
The truth is, I’ve been “cooling off” for a bit before I start editing my novel. After all, all work and no play makes Puddin write, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” and then start looking for the axe and a hedge maze.
All told, though, the timing for a short escape from my labors couldn’t have come at a better time. A holiday weekend complete with movies, reading, napping, out-of-town guests, and even a few hours of video games was just what the doctor ordered.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: who has out-of-town guests anymore. Don’t we have email, facebook, and Skype (oh my!)? Well, yes, but sometimes, all that just gets in the way. So instead, my best friend from high school stays with us every year on Labor Day, just to keep me honest and make sure I’m getting not too full of myself.
And you know what I talking about with “best friend”, right? It’s that person outside your spouse that knows you in and out, right down to the stupidest crap you’ve ever done. The one that would step in front of a bus for you if necessary, but would be sure to give you some sarcastic crap about it later. The person you can not see or even speak to for months at a time but as soon as you’re together it’s just like it’s always been; with whom not saying a word is as comfortable as laughing about twenty year-old stories.
Everyone should have at least one friend like that. I’m lucky mine makes an annual trip just to count how many kids I’ve got this time. And then make fun of me for it.
But! Friends and fun aside, the time for leisure has come and gone; it’s back to the grindstone for me. Edits start today, and I’m thinking I might even do something, well, different, next week. Something to help me get a good start.
So, sorry for the quiet over the weekend. Everyone, especially the Puddinette, can sleep soundly now, knowing that I’m back to working my fingers to the bone.
Because, you know typing words is so much work.