I've hit the wall

Oh the pressure of challenges. Why oh why did I put the pressure on myself to post every day in July? Now it makes it feel like work. Not that I should feel put out by that considering I am currently exploring the unemployment arts.

I'm not inspired, but deciding to just type whatever comes to my mind. My friend Wubbis and I would type letters to each other in typing class in high school that were free-form streams of consciousness rants and raves. Don't judge, we did our assignments and had plenty of time to spare so it was fine that we were doing these stream of consciousness documents. Usually they were single spaced, double sided letters. They were quite hilarious. Wubbis (named to protect her identity) tended to rant about the girl who sat in front of her in typing class and her smelly hair. The girl always smelled like food, and poor Wubbis was forced to inhale the aroma while typing 80 words a minute. We would pass each other the notes after classes, and then spend time in our next classes laughing at what the other said. I found one a few months ago when I was packing up my house in North Carolina, and I still laughed out loud, almost 25 years later. Typing class was totally awesome in that you didn't get homework, because most people didn't have IBM electric typewriters at home - and NO ONE had computers at home unless it was a Commodore 64 which didn't have any word processing capabilities.

I was just mentioning to someone a week ago that the class I probably got the most out of as an adult was the two semesters of Typing that Little Donnie forced me to take. I thought it was a lame decision at the time, but now I type more than anything other high school related - I mean, I spend little time on my clarinet, speaking elementary French, or reflecting on the knowledge gleaned from my Social Studies classes. Typing rules! Thank you Little Donnie!

Wow. That little post just wrote itself!

Crisis averted.