I have a problem. Okay that is funny. As in Aa problem. Singular. One. I have problem(s) of course. Are there actually people who have Aa problem?? Ponderings for another day. Right now I am shivering outside with a hoodie on and wondering where to go next. When I started this blogue in the summer I would sit outside and write and just enjoy being a slug. Plus, I needed to get my pup out so he could chew some wood that wasn’t connected to a table. But as I’ve surfed around the house to find something equally inspiring it’s just not happening for me. Kitchen, better empty the dishwasher. TV calls me in the family room. BEDroom? Enough said. Bathroom ewwwww. So suffice it to say my hands are numb, pup is soaked, and that book deal better come sooner rather than later. Everyone is writing a book it seems. The Bush twins have confiscated all the talk shows recanting amazing stories about how normal their life has been. Not interesting! Show me a trainwreck and that’s a must read. Melissa Rivers has written about Joan but that is just making me nervous. My dearests would never talk about me that way after I’m gone. Of course not. Ever. No way. Yikes!! Better write that on the chalkboard a hundred times. Even Colin Kaepernick just signed a book deal and his whole story would take a paragraph. Mediocre quarterback, goes down on one knee for anthem. Maybe if he has numerous tricks on how to get back up gracefully that could give him another few lines but really a book? So I need to embrace being an outsider. And knit some fingerless gloves. And get a Huskie. And a Yeti coffee mug. And furry boots. And a mink coat. Aa problem is solved.