Procrastination is the name of the game over here. Things I am actively not doing:

• Washing my face
• Washing dishes
• Sleeping
• Thinking about a serious plot for my blog
• Otherwise preparing for bed or my day tomorrow

Things I am doing:

• Watching dog reels on Instagram and sending them to friends
• Drinking chocolate milk
• Rubbing Chester’s ears while watching dog reels and drinking chocolate milk
• Procrastinating on this evening’s blog
• Wondering what’s wrong with me
• Trying to find a date for Valentines that’s not a real date. I just wanna go eat trout and crème brûlée and drink gin at Blackhorse

So more on that last part. Here’s the menu. Can you blame me?! I’ll brave the lovestruck crowds for crème brûlée! And yes, I am aware I could go by myself. And normally it wouldn’t even be a blip on my radar. But it’s VALENTINES. That would make me look pathetic. Even if anybody who bothered to meet me would quickly ascertain I am anything but. I’m just a single girl with an appetite.

And now I’m out of things to talk about again. I refuse to talk about the rain. I’m sick of the rain.

I refuse to talk politics… yet.

I refuse to talk about the Super Bowl or Taylor Swift, because I didn’t watch it because I didn’t care.

I met the new Agriculture Agent for our county today. I asked him if he was like John Dutton. He doesn’t watch Yellowstone, so he doesn’t realize what a compliment I gave him. He just shrugged and said that’s what everybody says. And here I thought I was original. What a disappointment. Nice guy, though.

I dunno. I don’t wanna talk about nothin’, I wanna go to bed.

I think I will. This is all you get. Yesterday’s was lengthy, they can’t all be Pulitzer material 😁

Once upon a time
I was a young girl
I would dance and I would twirl

But now my hair is gray
And wrinkles grace my face
Firmly rooted in the rat race

I sit with my dog
My candle and book
Reading and writing till I must cook

The rain has come and gone
The conversation has dwindled
Come to find out the money was swindled

I must rest my eyes
The hour is late
And I still don’t have a Valentines date! 

I think I just lost my last two readers. And I don’t blame you. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe not. I never promised you a dang thang! I’m merely honoring a promise to myself. Three hundred and twenty-some-odd days to go!

Love and perseverance from Appalachia,

~Amy