As Ben Franklin once said to me, “Either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing.” Today I plan to do neither. Sorry, Ben.
Ben, your quip is creating a mental block of such epic proportions that the pressure has actually squeezed every ounce of brain matter from my head. The worst part of that is not necessarily the loss of brain function as much as the fact that it has all seeped primarily out of my nose and it’s given me a killer sinus headache. Thanks a lot.
The thing is, Ben, what you’ve said is so right on that I just can’t find a viable way around it. It’s had me on the verge of shutting down The Caitlinator for good, putting up a “For rent” sign in its place until I can think of something to say that is worthy of the written word. Luckily I’m not that stupid, which is only to say that my ego is large enough that even if I were shouting these empty words at an empty room I would still think I was The Shit (which is in itself amazing, since I am also The Caitlinator, and who knew so much greatness could exist within one human soul?).
Frankly (get it? Franklin? Frankly?), that is not far from where I am at this particular moment, neigh* this very second, as I type this out in Microsoft Word, and yet I venture to say that I will indeed go on to press that “publish” button and you will have no force to stop me because you are dead and I am not.
And so, dear Ben, to you I say, PPPBBBBLLTTTTHHH. Nanny-nanny-poo-poo.
*And I will say “neigh” if I want to, even if what I really mean is “nay.”