I am like a totally professional writer and stuff, dudes.

This afternoon Eeyore had an arts and crafts class at the local library. I decided to take Cindy-Lu and her cousin along (only because it’s considered neglect to leave them home alone) and let them play with the toys in the children’s library while I WORKED. You know, because I have this job? As a writer? And I get paid in comments and love from the internets? I take my work very seriously you know.

I got the children ready and we were only going to be ten minutes late, which I consider to be SUCCESS! SWEET SUCCESS!, but then I realized that I hadn’t eaten lunch and I was hungry so I ran through McDonalds (Did you know they sell SWEET TEA now? Honest to goodness, southern sweet tea. Or at least, the McDonalds version of honest to goodness southern sweet tea.) which put us closer to fifteen minutes late. I didn’t mind. At least the children were all wearing clothes that matched and I remembered to bring my laptop.

Here I am, at the library. I had planned on doing some research for a post I wanted to write. Because anytime the laptop leaves the vicinity of my couch I feel like a professional and my surfing the net can suddenly be called research. I have some burning questions for the internets about sleep, but first I wanted to read a few studies and find a few links to send your way. Because I am dedicated. And I read studies and whatnot. I am a writer. Who writes about sleep. Because THAT is interesting.

So, I am at the library and I go to connect to the internet. And, huh, that’s odd, I have really good signal strength but I keep getting this weird error telling me to…WHAT? TO PAY? I keep getting a page telling me to sign in or sign up and oh, hahaha, did you know that to sign up they’re gonna charge you $24.95 a month! The library wants me to pay for their service, which I will use maybe once or twice a month or, you know, maybe never again. They want me to pay for THEIR internet when I could just use the internet that I have at home. From my couch. Where I can wear sweat pants and drink sweet tea and drop cookie crumbs all over the floor.

I’ve said it before (in high school) and I’ll say it again: THE LIBRARY IS DUMB. (Not just because they make you pay for the internet, but because there are other people here. People with children. People with children who have shit their pants. People who do not seem to smell the shitty pants. Even though said people is sitting right next to the child and I am twenty feet away and can smell it even though I have my shirt up over my nose, because MY GOD CHILD WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN EATING?)

So, now I am at the library writing, which still makes me feel cool, but I’m writing in Word because I can’t log on to my damn blog. I can’t do “research” for my sleep post and my battery is just about to die. Damn it. I guess this means that I’m going to have to play with the kids. I hate when I have to do that.