nagging uninspiration

I'm feeling uninspired to write anything post-worthy. I've started a couple of cute, lackluster titles like "Okay, fine, I'm starting to have fun," and "What took me so long to get a crock pot?" But they've just kinda sat there in draft limbo land, unstimulating enough to warrant any further fleshing out. But wait a minute ...  there was something funny that flew through my brain this morning to write about. It's gone now... maybe it'll come back. Oh wait, here comes something... i'm picking up a faint signal of this morning's inspiration... could it be...? maybe it was...? I'm thinking I remember something interesting about...? ... the therapeutic value of vacuuming? Yes, that's it! 

Yesterday morning I was Evilena embodied. I don't know exactly why. Maybe I was in a funk because my husband is imprisoned to his work during tax season. Or maybe I was warped because I had bad dreams last night. Or maybe I was pissy because N woke up too early. Or maybe I was the Wicked Witch because G dropped another disgusting bomb in his diaper instead of into the toilet where we sat reading potty books for 20 minutes. Who knows. But anyway, I thought to myself, "Something's gotta snap me out of this cesspool, and fast." That's when the brilliant inspiration happened. The skies opened up from above, a pulse of pure white light came beaming down on my snarling head and a heavenly voice said, "Vacuum." What more convincing did I need? It suddenly clicked. That's exactly what I need. I need to vacuum.  There is nothing like that satisfying sound of dirt sucking up the vacuum hose to soothe a woman's nerves, calm her mind and boost her mood. It's euphoric, isn't it? 

Because of our nap trap - the frustrating bermuda triangle of nap times demanding constant quietude - vacuuming has become challenging and infrequent. Plus G, who used to adore the vacuum, has decided to become petrified of it. He hides under his couch like a terrified cat and screams bloody murder the entire time, while N gets curious enough to come close and then starts dragging on my leg screaming. Needless to say, there are probably microscopic germ galaxies fermenting and multiplying within the thick pile hideaway of our carpeting. So to ensure our entire family doesn't get eaten alive by carpet varments, I pushed though the boyz noize and vacuumed that sucker up and down and all around... and felt much, much better... yesterday that is.

Now it's today and I'm still waiting for inspiration to hit me. But alas, the dryer has just turned itself off and a voice from above has benevolently whispered, "laundry."....