the temptations

There is a powerful force in my home. It is singing its siren song. It wants me to stop writing and open the box. Do you see it there, lurking in the fridge?

Hint: The evil force is not the cod filet. Not the vegetarian chili. Not the organic leeks.

"Open the box," it calls, alluringly.

Sigh. All right. I'll open the box. But that's as far as it goes.

Hello, you sexy thing.

Nope, not going to eat you, Birthday Cake. Back in the fridge you go. But wait, here comes another temptation:

I lost a whole summer to you once, B&B. Never again.

Sorry. Not happening. I need to write today. I am resisting you, daytime television, as I resist you every day. Just as I daily resist the urge to call my agent and complain about  writer's block, to update my Facebook page every half hour and to shop on eBay for things I don't need.

Okay, I am very bad at resisting eBay. I suspect it's worse than crack. If Hemingway had had eBay, his house on Key West would have soon been filled to bursting with vintage bullfighting costumes, "gently used" fishing tackle and collectible issues of Field & Stream.  On the other hand, he wouldn't have needed to drink so much.

Which reminds me: Every afternoon I think, Maybe I'll have a tiny glass of wine. Just one. Who would know? But I resist.

In fact there's only one distraction I can't resist. And today, I succumbed.

I should adopt a more glamorous vice.That's right. I cleaned the bathroom.

Comments

[anastasia]

man, i love you. :)

[Helen]

OK, every freakin' time, the first thing that comes to my mind/fingers is, "OH. That is just PERFECT. I adore you." but I can't say that every time. hmm.

[Lauren Lipton]

Aw. I love you both, too. XO