Totally Brain Dead

First of all, for those who keep asking how to bookmark my blog, I have to admit ignorance. I have no freakin’ idea how to explain this procedure to anyone. I still don’t get Digg or any of the other nifty Internet doo-dads that track what you’re interested in. WordPress used to be easier, where if I visited a blog I liked, I could just add it to my blog roll. When they upgraded the site about a year ago, I was left without a compass. I couldn’t find that function if my life depended on it.

So, I am an Internet dummy, but I’ve never touted myself as anything but. I know enough to find what I want and to stay away from web sites I don’t want data mining me, but beyond that and email and shopping, I am a sorry excuse for a modern woman.

These days, I am totally brain dead for many reasons. First, I completed my NaNo novel and sent it out to a couple of people, both of whom liked it. That’s the good news. The bad news is that I’m so exhausted, I don’t really feel like working on the re-write. I know I must, but it’s hard to get in the mood. In the meantime, a stack of edited paper sits before me, calling my name.

Christmas and winter time in general come in next as major bummers. Both my kids will be in California for the holidays. I haven’t decorated a tree, and haven’t even taken the shiny sequined number (a tree) out of the basement yet. I haven’t done much shopping (I despise shopping in brick and mortar stores more than I hate Rachel Ray with the heat of a million suns) as I am giving hand crafted items for presents this year.

Snow is more than a hazard; it’s dangerous. People are angry and part of that is because they forgot how to drive in it. Grey skies are dull. Grey is dull, which is why I tend to shy away from the color (or lack of) as a wardrobe choice. I like purple.

Two of my houseplants look like they won’t survive until April. One is a giant angel trumpet. The other is a rosemary tree. Angel trumpets grow like weeds in San Francisco, where it is foggy and chilly much of the year. Why it won’t adapt to my dining room is a serious question. The rosemary comes inside right at first frost, where subsequent new growth comes out spindly and weak. No amount of grow light wattage seems to help. By the time spring rolls around, I’m nursing it along on its impending deathbed, waiting for warm weather so I can take it outside.

I believe I have ADD, which would explain my daughter having the same thing. It would also explain my life. Do I ever finish anything? Do I ever stop going from one tangent to another?

So yes, today I’m brain dead. Totally.

I think I need a certain little kitty to kick me square in the backside.