It’s funny. I have all these kickass one-liners floating around this giant blob I call my brain (Bob for short), but the second I get down to writing something, all I can think about is cheese. Why do I suddenly want pizza?
Speaking of food, last week I finally faced my culinary devils and cooked a fish curry. You ain’t a proper Telugu wife if you can’t make a proper fish curry. See, while fish may be a staple food in Kerala, it is almost a religion in Andhra. (I’m a mix of both so you can understand my delicate mental state.) Well, I did it. And my husband still loves me. Wee!
Moving on.
So there’s this short story writing contest that has been brought to my attention. (The story is what’s short. Not the contest. Just in case you were wondering.) I’m really kicked about it but I’m also terrified. This blog aside, I really have not written anything worth reading. Sure, I showcased my tremendous songwriting skills at age 5 with “Comma Little Baby” (It brought together my two favorite things- infants and punctuation). But it’s been pretty much downhill from there (poems about oatmeal anyone?). So I have 16 days to do what I have not done in 25 years. Wish me luck!
I wonder if I can write a story about oatmeal.
P.S. The title used to have something to do with this blog post. But I waited so long to write this, I forgot. Procrastination. It kills you… eventually.
