Forced Writer

I am now under certain obligations to write shit on this journal, whether I like it or not. And in my never-ending quest to please others, I now find myself at my computer, my cup still warm from the coffee I barely finished.

Sigh... Another day.

Ok, so there's a plan today. The plan is: a cookout with Gretchen in OC, coming home to wait for Debra to pickup Tom and Genevieve from LAX, giving Tom and Debra their Christmas gifts, spending makeup cuddle-time with Genevieve, putting everyone to bed, going on Facebook. Oh, and somewhere before meeting Tom, Debra and Genevieve, wrapping their Christmas gifts. Yes, I'm still wrapping Christmas gifts.

Maybe that's why I like the whole "waiting for the Magi" thing, because this way, no matter how much I procrastinate, there are always the Magi and the time they take getting here. Kind of like how you have a whole year after a wedding to give the newlyweds a gift, but I don't know the logic behind that one...

Anywhoo... don't know what else to write. I feel that hot spotlight shining on me, and the whole being-naked-in-front-of-everyone thing... I could write to my little group on "unknowns" before, but now, for an audience of one? That's hard...

I'm going to start a new entry.