The Unwritten, Unnamed Book

Some of you might know (giggles... who reads this blog anyway?) that at the beginning of the summer one of my goals was to write my book.

(Guttural laugh!)

How silly I was. I must be honest, I haven't been able to add to my book nearly as much as I want to. I know part of the reason is honestly because I try to do a bit of everything.

Want to see the trees I put up in my foyer?

How about the plate arrangement I have in my kitchen?

My chandelier and drapes I just hung up?

Not to mention the almost-finished garment I am crocheting, or the nightstand that I have primed, the sheets I have to return because I decided I am NOT using them for the curtains I want to make...

So to be honest, while writing is absolutely in my heart, (I seriously crave writing sometimes... like I know there is too much on my mind that I have to get out,) I absolutely have not had the intentional time of sitting down to write.

My poor book. You know it doesn't even have a name? Isn't that a sad thing for a book? It's like the unnamed puppy that needs to be loved and cared for so that it can become a loving, obedient dog. And it's as innocent (seeming) as a puppy, big eyes and all, looking back up at me from my computer screen saying "Please mommy, please come and love me."

Oh darling little (unnamed) book. I will take care of you soon sweetheart.

I just have to make a list and go grocery shopping... And I can't miss my favorite work-out class at 5:30 if I ever think I am going to lose weight. And I have to pick up a new can of spray paint so the primed nightstand outside doesn't bother the neighbors.... and pick up a new hook for the frame I painted... and do laundry... and make dinner...

All of a sudden I feel like I have officially orphaned my book... poor unwritten book.