Bad Haiku

I’ve been dreading this: having to write on a Saturday. Saturdays are my longest work days, and after spending 8 hours dealing with people at the store, I want nothing more than to sit around and veg out. The absolute last thing I want to do is think coherently.

And, here’s the thing, as I said before, I have already written something yesterday to post today. So why am I taking the time to write this, especially when I’d really rather not? Well, it’s starting to feel weird posting things a day after the fact. Once it’s no longer current, who cares? Besides, I worked on my short story yesterday and wasn’t going to post anything anyway, except to tell you that I worked on my short story. Maybe I’ll compromise and let myself off the 600 word hook tonight. Maybe on Saturdays, I only have to post 300 words. There I go, making excuses again. But hey, I’ve been really good, haven’t I? And I’m only asking for a small break one day a week.

I like my short story. It’s coming together entirely different than I anticipated. Stories have a tendency to do that to me. I think I know what’s happening and where things are going, and then it all takes a sudden right hand turn and I’m left grabbing the wheel trying desperately to compensate.

And now, a haiku:

Mythbusters

Science in action

Missing eyebrow

Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one who said I should write. I blame this entirely on you. I never said I could write well, I just said I liked to do it.

Youtube videos

Asking about episodes

Never praising me

Now that was a technically correct haiku because it was 5-7-5. But seriously, that’s all people want to know about my videos. “What episode is this clip from?” This is especially true if I have already answered their question in the comments. And it seems to become more true the more I have repeated that answer. Why can’t they take five seconds to read the other comments and see if maybe I already answered their question? WHY??

OK, clearly my brain is fried. I’m going to quit while I’m ahead, and hope that tomorrow I will be able to make words into sentences again. And, you know, have them make sense.

Good night.