A (Writing) Exercise in Desperation

11:33 AM. Polish off second cup of coffee. If I leave now I'll get there earlier than yesterday. Means I'll wait longer before they get out, but I'll be farther ahead in the line. Fine by me.

11:45 AM. Forgot that this road leads back from lunch to the largest single employer in Georgia. My advantage over yesterday is totally shot.

11:48 AM. Moody is clear and I make an easy left onto 96. Maybe I've beat the rush.

12:00 PM. Stop driving perfectly on time...in a line of cars at least a quarter mile from the school.

12:01 PM. Cars fill all visible road behind me. State Road 96 is now a parking lot.

12:10 PM. Ten-minute mark. Realize that thought process resembles apocalyptic log.

12:11 PM. See woman walk by toward the school. Wonder where her car is.

12:13 PM. Regretting that second cup of coffee.

12:14 PM. Several cars pull out of the line and turn around. The majority of us have nowhere else to go.

12:16 PM. Gentleman jogs pas the car. Heat haze makes me think that cars ahead of me are moving. Just a cruel mirage.

12:17 PM. Girl and her little sister walk toward school. Their mom must have stayed in her air-conditioned car.

12:18 PM. Really regretting that second cup of coffee.

12:19 PM. Playlist ended. Can't be bothered to find new tunes.

12:21 PM. Moved twelve feet forward. Saw first woman walk back with happy daughter.

12:22 PM. Movement becoming more frequent. Still not in sight of school.

12:23 PM. Catch glimpse of highlighter-yellow-vested traffic cop. Second gentleman walks back. Daughter as tall as he is.

12:24 PM. Gentleman gives truck driver behind me directions. Truck skirts around me and bypasses the madness.

12:25 PM. In sight of school. Moving frequently. Memorizing log entries for later transcription.

12:26 PM. Intensely regretting that second cup of coffee.

12:27 PM. See cars pulled over in grass on side of road, drivers walking. Tempting, but it's prohibitively hot and I'm a wuss.

12:29 PM. Aforementioned grass-car is under the impression that she can make a left back onto this road. Due to the mercy of strangers she somehow succeeds.

12:30 PM. Kid rides by on bike, wondering what in the world is going on. I'm right there with you, kid.

12:31 PM. World has turned sufficiently that my window arm is now in the shade. Small mercies.

12:33 PM. Realization hits that the school has consolidated its two pickup lines into one for the day. WHY?! is unclear.

12:34 PM. Hope I turned off the coffee pot. Try not to think about coffee.

12:35 PM. Highlighter cop's job really sucks.

12:36 PM. Regretting every cup of coffee I've ever had.

12:40 PM. Turn on J-Rock, sing along, and headbob so that the woman in front of me who keeps looking in her rearview will wonder what I'm doing.

12:42 PM. See more grass-cars. Tempted again, but I'm so close now.

12:44 PM. Enter the school parking lot. Pass by king of the highlighter cops.

12:45 PM. Reach the point at which I stopped driving at noon yesterday.

12:46 PM. Can't quite bring self to regret discovery of coffee bean.

12:50 PM. Spot a parking monitor huddling in a rare patch of shade. Lucky guy.

12:56 PM. Pickup successful. First order of business: find a bathroom.

12:59 PM. Can't get back onto 96 from Flash Foods. Take an alternate route home. Have an adventure.

1:37 PM. Arrive home. Confirm that I did, in fact, turn off the coffee pot.

Thought #8

Yesterday, I realized the only rapper I like at all is Agape, and I love 'Hiphopapotamus Versus Rhymenocerous' by the Flight of the Conchords, and I can kind of stand Eminem. So, apparently, I only like white rappers. The three white rappers in existence. What is wrong with me?

Thought #6

Thought of the Day:

An agent who asks for queries only by email asked for the first five pages of The Very Watery Ocean and Other Unnecessary Tales, also via email. I wonder if this is the wave of the future. First queries, then first five/ten/twenty pages, then the first fifty pages, then the full manuscript, then an offer of representation. Good news if you write great queries. Bad news if your writing is great but your queries are terrible.

Thought #4

Earlier today.

Sarah: Sometimes I have the transient thought that Mom and Dad don't love us three. Ha ha ha. Isn't that crazy?
Sarah's much-younger sister: Aww, don't worry about it, Sarah. They love us. They only hate you.

...owned. By an eleven-year-old. Actually, I'm kind of proud of her snarkiness. She's all grown up!

Thought #5

A tendency to see all one's worst traits in a changing room mirror seems to be universal among my female friends. Still, shopping stays popular.

So this is what we've become:

I also tell people about my dreams. And psychoanalyze them. Oh, the humanity.

So. In a small attempt to make my life less boring, I'm going to start updating. The updates won't be good. But they'll be there. I'm thinking of doing a thought of the day kind of thing, and maybe Miri will pop in every now and then with a quality update. We'll see.

For today: I think tiny houses are awesome. Who wouldn't want to live here?