This scene needs to be written. But writing’s not the boss of me. And to prove it, here I am procrastinating. I might even go wash my hair. Ahhhh. That tainted sort of satisfaction that you know doesn’t compare to actually being free of the thing about which you’re procrastinating. Couple more rounds of spider solitaire and then maybe I’ll think about…having lunch. Mmm. Lunch sounds good. Plus I – unlike most 25 year olds – have only 228 songs on my laptop. That’s pretty bad. Especially when I don’t wanna listen to classical (not like that happens much)… ’cause that’s pretty much all there is. Too bad about that time my other laptop got yoinked. *looks around the ceiling, blowing spit bubbles*
You know who dances better than Ezra? *Logs away forty-seventh time that band name has escaped lips since Ezra’s birth* No one, that’s who. People totally forget to use their faces when they dance. Or they don’t and they look like Ben Stiller. No, but when Ezra’s mouth hangs open while he throws his head around and dangles his arms like he’s lost the use of them… it’s magic. Made better by the fact that he’s wearing Spiderman slippers (blue slippers with huge Spiderman heads on the toe) and a diaper. I’m mildly obsessed, I think.
The outside is calling to me again. But I know – like yesterday – I’ll go out there and not be able to find somewhere to actually be productive. But I could just go outside to see it. It’s not my fault I can’t make the outside comfortable and inspiring. I guess writing’ll have to wait.