(For the purposes of this post, please be aware, cellulose = insulation. NO, I didn't know that before this weekend. YES, I am going green, I don't care if you think it's trendy.Now, back to our program.)
In case you were wondering, I didn't fall off the face of the Earth, or go fishing. I am currently in my attic--buried in cellulose.
This is not my favorite place to be.
There is no cause for alarm. I have several reasons to be certain I will make it through this.
1 - Cellulose must be edible, because I haven't died yet.
2 - I was able to chew through a stray internet wire and by rigging it to the fillings in my teeth I am able to get rudimentary versions of my e-mails printed on my brain. Convenient? yes. Comfortable? no.
3 - My next door neighbor kindly plays music in his jeep loud enough that it rattles my windows and I can, as they say, "Get jiggy wid' it." (Don't knock it. Until you've seen a woman covered in cellulose dancing--you haven't lived.)
4 - One corner of my roof is leaking, by carefully placing my head against the wall--in between two rusty nails, of course--I am able to get a little water. It tastes like tar, but it's wet.
5 - I am confident this time alone will give me plenty of time to brainstorm and outline my next 12 novels. When I get out of here (after MANY showers) I'm going to burn that keyboard up!
6 - I'm reasonably sure that this will get me an agent. Why? Who doesn't want to represent a writer who is handy, charismatic (HEY! No laughing! I am totally enjoying my own company!) and could go on Survivor?
Until I make it out, feel free to comment.
Oh, and pray for rain.