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2001-08-14 | 10:29 a.m.

Felony: Who got these cups? I like the color.
Me: Daddy.
Felony: He's a good color picker. Gooder color picker.
Criminy: Outer. Gooder color picker outer.

Having turned in an assignment yesterday, late, I find myself with no pressing deadline, only a long list of things that ought to be done "soon." I OUGHT to work on publicity for the publishing house. I OUGHT to take the kids to the park. I OUGHT to clean the house in preparation for the girls' birthday party. I OUGHT to finish that damn book review that's been on my to-do list for months.

I'm very bad with this sort of list. Nothing jumps up and bites me on the ass. I am liable to drift. You'll notice it didn't even occur to me to work on my own writing. That's what I really ought to do anytime I have a free moment. Instead I am here. Confessio amatis. (By the way, I don't even know what that means.)

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