Into the Flood Again

So, I was pushing through things with my head down – my laptop is dying and I’m saving up for a replacement – when I suddenly realized April is nearly over and Poor Impulse Control is a gangly twelve year old. While I’m relieved that the blog doesn’t need braces, it’s still exasperating. What am I going to do with it? Where should I go now? I’ve given it a whole lot of thought and re-registered with the unnamed university. The application process, the counseling meetings, the phone calls have all offered daily tests of my resolve, and I didn’t know I had that. This has been very damned unnerving and I haven’t started having those naked/missed exam dreams yet.

Smell this!

Smell this!

On the other hand, a twelfth anniversary was worth marking. Faced with the choice between murdering me or setting up a blog so I’d write, Paulie Gonzalez set up Poor Impulse Control and demonstrated tremendous restraint. As thanks, I sent him a lovely port wine from Unionville Vineyards last week and hope he has a serene weekend. Thanks, Paulie, you mad charmer!

With good luck, I should acquire a new laptop pretty soon and posting should be easier, my stories should be lemony fresh and springy. And that’s good because no matter how it whines that all the other blogs have them, I’m not buying the blog heels.

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