Today was such a strange day, much like every Sunday. Get the little one dressed for the long two hour drive to her father’s house. Yep, time to kid swap, and never something that is easily done. Feels like each time I leave her, I leave a part of me. Maybe that’s the half of the DNA bond we share, but sometimes I just want to be selfish and not share her with anyone at all.
To put a damper on the situation, my hormones are revolting and staging some kind of feminist coup. There is literally some kind of Occupy Tania’s Brain and Emotional Sensory movement going on here, and if I cry at the Clydesdale commercial one more time, I may have to buy a horse. Ugh, I can’t contend with that today. So I slept on the drive down, the drive up, took another round of acetominophen and caffeine pills, went back to sleep, followed by a hot shower and near syncopal episode complete with nausea, and man-o-man do I need somebody to cuddle up with. But the nausea says that might be a bad idea.
Of course, once it all fades, and I get a break through back into semi-reality, I can’t sleep. Figures, I just have to be at work for a 12.5 hour shift in less than five hours, but hey, on a good note, the voices are back. So, I sat down in my caffeine induced, character possessed high and banged away at the keyboard. I went between stalking people on WordPress, Twitter, Facebook and my writings. The caffeine giving me the super power to multitask while my brain ran through a gazillion titles for my book. And another part of my brain wondered who came up with the term Yotabyte? And if a Yotabyte came with a lightsaber and said things like, “more than a tetrabyte, I am?”
Ugh! Stupid voices hopped up on Tylenol and caffeine, we must get you into rehab … or perform an exorcism, which sound much more fun. Then again, chocolate cookies sounds pretty good right about now, too. Yep, a totally “shiny things” moment, and some of you will actually know what the heck that means.
So while in my hormonal, caffeine, and tylenol (sounds like a country song) state of mind, I think I may have found a title for my next book: Thirty Miles from Ordinary. Not to be confused with 50 Shades from Ordinary or 30 Miles from 50 Shades <– need more caffeine STAT! Okay, on the real side, a title should tell a reader what kind of book it is, so my question to my blog feed friends is this: Thirty Miles from Ordinary, what genre or thoughts does this give the impression of?
Tania L Ramos, Author (tweaking on Caffeine)
Damn, cried at the Clydesdale commercial again, while getting the link from YouTube. 😦 Is it just me, or does anyone else feel like writing some prose?