Two more days of NaBloPoMo. Well, I'm in the home stretch. I'm actually surprised at how easy it has been to blog every day, both the find the time and, at least for the most part, have something to say. I truly thought I would struggle with it more.
That isn't to say that I haven't struggled with what to say. But just knowing I had to put something up here got me over the struggle to figure out what to say. And that's a good lesson. Working under pressure has its merits, for sure. Each night, if I haven't figured something out beforehand, I curl up on the bed, turn on the tv, and crack my knuckles over the laptop.
At some point Mr. Bump will call up the stairs "Are you blogging or clicking?" and I'll call back down, "Yes!"
And then at some point I'll try to figure out a good way to end my post, often relying on epanalepsis. But at this point, I'll settle for just coasting through the last too days.
oooh! Does that count? Did I do it again?
P.S. By the way, I'm late to the party but I just saw Knocked Up. F*ing high-larious.
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