I had set it up as a personal goal to blog every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. At least 3 a week. Okay . . . so now I seem to be averaging alot less . . . more like once a week for 3 weeks. At least the number 3 is in there somewhere . . . It is the book signings throwing me off. I, apparently, can’t juggle. After every book signing, a handful of vegetative days follow.
And this isn’t even my house.
Unfortunately, after every book signing I want to blog about it. To me, these are the most important blogs – where I talk about the great people, food, friends, food, new towns, food. . . you get the picture.
I had just spent this last Friday in Tulsa at a book signing. However, I can’t spend the time I would like on a Tulsa book signing blog. I came out of my vegetative state on Sunday, looked around, and saw that the small pile of dirty laundry took advantage of my ‘absence’ to breed like rabbits. I washed like a madwoman. However, I am not done. I am now the proud owner of a tower of unfolded clothes . . . a tower so high, I can just barely crown it with my armpit. It is amazing how delicately one can balance three full wardrobes in a tiny basket without losing so much as an underwear on the dusty garage floor. I will need a forklift and the help of three brawny men to carry it in, however, and that makes me slightly depressed.
At least the kitchen is clean.
The point to all this rambling, though, is that I will blog my brains out tomorrow . . . all about the Tulsa trip, along with pictures, food, names, food, friends, food, etc . . .
So let me leave you with this awkward photo that has nothing to do with anything . . .
Until tomorrow, when I should be back on track . . . even though I have another book signing coming up this Friday in Fayetteville. I will be at Panera from 11 am – 2 pm, but this time with my new book ‘The Doll In The Wall’. Come visit me, buy a frozen Mocha, a panini, or a salad and take a quick look at the new book. I hope I get to see some of the friends there. (Josh, now is a perfect time for you and Emily to fix your Panera craving . . .:)
(Let’s just hope that Randy doesn’t find me dead under a fallen wall of laundry when he gets up . . .)