As part of my #WriteChain pledge, I’ve sort of made a promise to write 200 words per day and keep my blog up to date.
I’m kind of taken aback that I have yet to write “200 words” and made that count.
There’s the little ways of cheating where I could say, hey, I’m averaging two hundred words per post, then hope that my other blog entries hit 250 to 300 words, then let the law of averages work out in my favor.
That would be a bit of a cop-out.
Today we started the process of looking at materials to update the new house. I’m there to render an opinion when someone wants it, but the reality is, I probably don’t have the eye that others in my family have. If I were to decorate a room, it would be found at the intersection of Vanilla Ice Cream and a Nightmare on Elm Street.
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I’m the sort of person that gives an interior designer a reason for their existence. Whatever I might put together, a pro can do soooooo much better.
I’m not exaggerating. I think black velvet Elvis paintings have a place in the modern household.
Yeah… time to go back and look at giant resin dragon skulls. That’s my wheelhouse.
Peace y’all.
