Friday, February 03, 2012

The Stream of Consciousness that Wasn't

There is a day of the week when Bloggers unleash a stream of consciousness upon their keyboards - coming up with really brilliant, entertaining and read-worthy stuff.

Today isn't that day and this isn't that blog.

But, I've got nothing else to write about (despite having 26 - TWENTY SIX - drafts of mumbo jumbo saved), so I decide to see what happens when I just type and type and not really give too much thought and credit to what comes out.

Possibly one of the worst things I could ever attempt to do.

I might even publish this unedited, in all its raw rawness (and not like rah rah sis boom bah).

Or not.

It all might come crashing down now that I had to stop writing to pick up a deposit that missed its target - in other words, the cat missed the litter box. As in I had to pick up poop. Off the floor. Right next to the cat box. The cat? Yeah, she was scratching THE WALL to cover up the poop ON THE FLOOR. Don't ask.

And when I sat back down to write some more, I noticed the big pile of kitty puke and undigested cat food. Upon the floor. Next to where I sit.

And now? I'm half way through the page and running out of stuff to say.

My stream of consciousness is more of a trickle, like that leaky faucet in the bathroom that just drips, drips, drips insanity into your head until you take a sledge hammer to that infernal noise.

There are oodles of thoughts coursing through my head, yammering & vying to be first in print. It's possible I might have had too much caffeine today.

Oh, as for the caffeine vs. decaf conundrum, I've decided that adding MORE Bailey's to my coffee is a better option that switching to decaf.  The flavor of decaf is too weak. If my coffee isn't scratching and clawing its way out of the cup, then it isn't coffee.

I'm going to need another can of whipped cream as well.

Because apparently I'm including my grocery list in this stream of conscious writing. And the whole idea of whether this is conscious might need to be looked at, because I'm not so sure. Mostly it's random. And mostly all this typing means that my coffee is getting cold and my whipped cream is melting and SOMEONE really needs a shower and to do something more productive than sit here typing useless ramblings.

Are you rolling your eyes and thinking "WTF?" yet?

 Perhaps I'll try this stream thingy again when I'm less weird more coherent.

And really, you didn't expect that I'd publish without at least a spell check.

Did ya?

I'd really like to find that recipe for Toasted Marshmallow Martinis.

And yes, that was plural on the martini, on purpose. Come's toasted marshmallow, duh!

I'm not usually like this, I do hope you'll come back.

Yes, I am. Come back anyway.

NaBloPoMo Day #3 - by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin...whew.

Now, where are my tweezers.


  1. Ha-ha-ha. Our cats must be related. Yep, scratching the wall is a big help when one misses the litter box.

    I have a bunch of those unfinished posts, too, and maybe I need a post disposal key on my keyboard? That makes a grinding noise when I push it?

    Ya dun it! Day 3, yippee!

  2. It must be a cat thing. Mine has also done the 'scatch-the-wall-to-cover-up-the-poop-on-the-floor' thing.

  3. This is why I do not have cats.

  4. I sense a cat trend. Vinny totally does that too. He is box challenged.