As of this morning I had resolved, easily, that I was overdue for blog posts both here and on my “official” gig at the Fisher Center. Epic Mickey is...well...epic, but I finally achieved the grand finale and felt the release of Mickey’s white-gloved grip.
So I made another resolution: I’d base both pieces on whatever stuff happened today.
As such, I owe Jeff one for providing the perfect springboard for a Fisher vignette. And I owe Becca one for cleaning him up when--while I was at Japanese class--he helped himself to a big batch of Rocky Road, sans dish. Becca discovered him chuckling at the kitchen sink eating ice cream out of his hand, while liberally spreading the excess about his face, sweatshirt, floor, countertop, dishwasher handle, and probably the dog.
But I pretty much kept Jeff out of mischief for the remainder of the day, and our most exciting side adventure was a brief foray into Trader Joe’s. Now, we did replenish our decimated ice cream stock, as you might expect, and the free sample coffee on offer was a very worthwhile cocoa-laced special, but you can hardly expect a whole blog post out of a grocery shopping expedition. Actually, maybe you can. In fact, I’m almost certain I’ve done it at least once.
But today I’m resorting to meta-posting on the nature of blog-thought. Yesterday, you see, I defeated the evil Blot. Today, I merely carried on as usual in the brick and mortar (well, maybe beam and drywall) world of ordinariness, where cups of coffee are new and special, but I have to make sure I don’t eat too much chocolate.
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