day 4 (editorial entry)

ok, so this may not be 300 words...
this is all pretty crazy. i have no idea what i am writing one day to the next. think i might have to make a few caveat's. after all, would this be TW without a list? (TW. you know: terriblywitty... work with me people!)
first being that i need to take a weekend or something... every day might be a bit insane.
also, i think i might have to mix it up a bit. you know, change stories. which sucks for you loyal readers, i know, but i am not sure how long i can keep up a story i am inventing as i go... not sure that i even like the characters i am writing... and what is with that Obsessive Compulsive guy?
and finally, i might wander into non-fiction from time to time. frankly this 300 a day thing isn't for other people to read in the first place... so, if i make a post about tiling back-splashes or applying for a equity line of credit or something, don't be alarmed. i am just refreshing the hard drive, so to speak. and i might shift gears within the fiction. change to a different story... different characters... sci-fi or romance. whatever floats my boat that day. capice? think of it as a pot-luck of prose (i can pretty much guarantee there will be no poetry). although, that might be a bad connotation. after all, have you ever been to a good pot-luck? there's always that green bean thing and pasta salad... and they ALWAYS defile the jell-o with pears or pineapple or some other contaminate.
ok. pot-luck is out. how about grab bag? smorgasboard? potpourii? lottery?
anyway, i will let you work that out. me? i'm the one responsible to bring you back. with words.
well... it was nice knowing ya.

ok. so... sorry to disrupt whatever level of involvement you had in the story about bathrooms.
one other thing: i just (as in three minutes ago) finished watching eagle eye. now, why can't i write like that? that was a sah-weeet movie!!!
ok. enough said, maybe i will reengage the story tomorrow.
oh, and one last last thing: i might not be hitting 300...you see; i write until i get tired, think i have enough, or come to a natural break in the, uh, action. i figure: the fact that i am writing at all should be enough for you people. i mean, what do you want from me?! i am only one wordsmith.

oops... i let in the beatus selfus uppis. a rare, but totally sarcastic animal with only one intention: to inflict pity upon the nearest bystander of whomever it parasitically attaches to. i need to go get some sleep and hope that the lack of wit or whatever platitudes i type will make it release its grip from me... please disregard any "poor me" undertones you might receive.

not that there are any people actually receivin-- dang it. ok, i'm really going now. not that you would care... um. and, forget that last comment...