Sometimes A Girl Is the Worst Story-Teller Ever

Sometimes a girl has nothing to write but she does it anyway to keep her mind off of everything that she knows she really ought to be doing.

Sometimes she writes so much in a night that she can't really gather any thoughts that are of any particular substance, but she writes anyway because she feels like if she doesn't her "writer's fuel" might be gone at some point soon and she needs to keep producing. Even if she isn't a pro.

Sometimes a girl types something and erases it and starts a new line because she thinks it's just simply a good idea.

Sometimes a girl wonders why the class mate who commented on her English essay that one time doesn't seem to read her stuff anymore just because of a difference in perspective. Especially when she reads that girl's stuff all the time FOR a different perspective.

Sometimes a girl wonders why she starts every paragraph with sometimes and feels silly for doing it so she tries to devise other ways to start the next paragraph.

And finally she changes it. But she gets stuck and can't figure out where to go from there except to talk about her "new" Cinderella slippers that make her feel like a princess even though she isn't sure that she likes that her super red toe nails show so clearly through the little shiny transparent plastic webbing of the jellies.

Sometimes a girl wonders WHY IN THE WORLD she taught her dog to bark and whine when she used to be such a quiet, polite little thing. And then she's glad that she knows she will not regret teaching said nine-year-old dog to give kisses...even if it did take an entire year.

And sometimes a girl has an itch on her leg and knows that when she types about it, that should be the end of the blog for the night because really she should be (erase) doing Geology or film homework....................................................................

The end. Tonight I am the worst story-teller ever.