I am not interesting...

I have no idea if anyone reads my blog but, suffice it to say, it does make me feel a little better about my day when I sit down to write. I feel productive whereas, usually, I just feel procrastin-ative...I don't care if that's not a word.

I've been writing alot in the last few weeks (considering, well, I am writing a book for my internship). I get to meet Scottie Mayfield tomorrow afternoon...that's right...you read that correctly. THE Scottie Mayfield, bowtie and all. I went out and bought some Mayfield Brown Cows just for his sake (no, I won't be bringing them with me. I just bought them to sit in my freezer, and eat of course, in honor of his visit...plus, I figured if I'm writing a book about their company history, I should probably become a patron!). My own novel is coming along fabulously. I feel really great about it, and it hasn't been something I have to drag out. I go into Borders or Barnes and Noble and feel jealous of all the authors whose books are displayed, pretty covers and shiny names and whatnot...I will finish my book by the end of the summer. I WILL. Remind me, just in case, mmk?

I'm going to get back to work and write some more. Only two and a half more hours before I get to go home...

Wendi

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