the end of tomorrow.
Perhaps you've noticed; perhaps this is your first time here. It may peradventure be that both are true of you, my dear reader.
How much strength in nonsense can we gain from the title of this entry? I'll leave that up to you while I explain.
This month I decided to participate in the writing project known as NABLOPOMO (or National *log Posting Month). CliffsNotes version: For an entire month, one adds an entry to her online journal daily. Whoever is in charge over there sets a theme for the month. Chosen themes are there to help; using them is not compulsory.
The best part? I passed this personal test for eight glorious days. Despite my suspicions that I have too much of nothing to say, I was able to force myself to meet the deadline — MIDNIGHT EST — eight days in a row, even though my fibromyalgia and/or insanity was flaring up. I made sure I had my column posted by midnight, no matter what the article contained.
Then I ruined it. I was too achy and exhausted to write anything on the ninth. Those feelings echoed throughout the week, eventually gaining a partner in keeping me from this log: having to stretch some of my medications and ultimately running out. This is also known as my doctor went on vacation, I had no way of knowing she'd be out, the on-call doctor refused to fill my prescriptions, and nobody could do anything about it. In other words I was fucked.
My participation in this project began to fail. Going over the past 10 days or so, you will find signs of life. An anniversary message and even some comments. My OCD was pleased to find the coincidental matching of numbers for the dates and IDs of entries, which is why, among other things, you'll find the title "tomorrow" (and not much else) filling the void where my daily writing should have been published.
All of that just to say: I'd like to restart my daily rambling today. The end of tomorrow... as a placeholder, at any rate.
Cheers to Brock, a fellow who stopped by and took the time remark on my echoverse.org anniversary note. Unfortunately, he (or she — I shouldn't make assumptions based on names) did not provide a link, so I can't show it to you.
I can show you the link to fellow "head case" and mysterious observer AJ a.k.a. the alien-joseph.
cheers,
echo
"I am the undertow of the worst driven cow."
Thursday August 20 2009: it echoes to this day...
