I didn’t blog this weekend. I’m sorry! I was too busy rolling around on a floor, laughing till my teeth chattered. A plotting weekend with the women I call the Plot Monkeys, minus one of us, who was unfortunately unable to come at the last minute.
What does such a weekend entail, you ask? I’ll tell you!
Wine. Pajamas. Food. Comfortable seating. Ice packs (we all seemed to be sporting some kind of injury this weekend. It might’ve been wise to bring a very strong, non-English-speaking massage therapist along.)
There is nothing that can’t get the Plotmonkeys laughing. This weekend, conversations devolved thanks to bizzare acronyms (FASF…I will never tell you what that stands for); inadvertently pornographic word combinations; drum circles; body parts that were never meant to look like mushrooms; super-long toenails and the people who sport them; and hot flashes. As always, the word moist destroyed any sensible conversation we attempted to have.
And oh, yes, we worked! We worked a lot, and we had the most fun doing it. Times like this, I’m so glad I’m not an electrical engineer. Being a writer is the best! So thank you, readers, for giving me that.