Okay, so I got this idea from my friend Teri and thought it sounded like fun. Except the more I think about just writing about whatever is in my head for five minutes, well, it kind of scares me. Because sometimes, you know, the things in my head are a little scary.
And shouldn't you have an idea for what you're going to write about? Nope - apparently it's meant to be a brain dump with no editing. I'm thinking it might be a good idea to get the kids back upstairs and the hubby out to the store before I give this a shot! So, I'll be back in oh, say, a half hour?
Okay, so here goes. It's 10:09 - somebody stop me at 10:14 (and yes, that math was hard!)
So Justin's getting a really late start on the shopping this morning because work called him at 7:15 this morning. I do not understand how they can lay off all of those people and then expect him to go back to this on call crap, but I guess they totally can. So now it's after 10:00 and that means the stores will be crowded. I wish he would let me do the shopping, but I tend to spend the national debt every time I go to the store, so I can kind of see his point.
Besides, if I stay here instead of doing the shopping, I can go shop around Etsy for stuff for the really cool Jenny Lawson style dollhouse I want to build. I'm not sure I even can build a dollhouse, but if I can make these cross stitch things, surely I can make a dollhouse? It's just glue and nails - little tiny nails - and a little tiny hammer. And siding and shingles and stuff. And the first thing I'm putting in there is that cool miniature Ouija board I found on Etsy. Who knew they actually made haunted miniatures? Someone found a niche. I hate them. If I could find a niche, I could make some actual money (instead of the money I'm always spending in my head) and then Justin could quit working and being so stressed all the time.
Yeah, yeah, we could go live on a tropical island, send the kids off to boarding school, and get groceries delivered by plane. That's it. Seriously. It's like the island on Jane Ann's computer screen when I go in every week. I *heart* that island with a passion. It's totally my happy place. Not that I would wear a bathing suit or anything. Of course, if I had my own island, I could maybe start walking on the beach. And if I was walking on the beach (because in this fantasy, not only am I on an island, then I'm also pain and drug free!), I would definitely lose weight, so all of the clothes I ordered to wear on the island would be a smaller size and actually fit. *Squeee!!!!* I love the idea of having my own island. And if that damned dog scratches at the door to be let in and then runs away one more time, I am getting into my car and driving to the nearest airport to pull a Tom Hanks/Castaway type of deal.
Okay, that's five minutes in my head. Only slightly censored - I think I did pretty well in the "I'm not going to hold back on this (much) department.