Confession is supposed to be good for the soul, at least as the saying goes. As such, I thought I’d offer some of my own here, in no particular order of badness/importance (but numbered all the same because lists are fun):
1. I have never read all of L.M. Montgomery’s classic book Anne of Green Gables. Though I did love the 1985 film adaptation starring Megan Follows and its 1987 sequel. That counts for something, right?
2. Actually, there are a fair number of works of classic literature I have not read. Other titles include Little Women, most of Charles Dickens’ works, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, The Wizrd of Oz, Alice in Wonderland. This is a literal naming of only a few.
3. It’ll be by the grace and power of God should I ever have to hide under a bed. Seriously. The thought of it alone makes me queasy – I don’t even like having to get my cat out from under our bed on the rare times he has squirreled away under it.
4. I’ve been tired lately and while knowing going to bed earlier to get some extra sleep is the logical thing to do, am failing to do just that. Wondering if this could be indicative of an impending mid-life crisis/hiccup? I am 46, after all …
5. Indicators are I love the idea of being a writer more than actually being a writer. At least lately. Could be tied to #4. Need to stop being so stubborn about that one, I know.
6. I’d write more but seriously – I need to get to bed earlier. And as I typically write these posts the night before they go live, IT IS TIME TO WRAP THIS UP.
Maybe I’ll revisit this topic when my synapses are able to fire a bit more quickly. ;-)