Impromtu

Lately, I've been feeling the creative drain as a direct result of punching things out at break-neck speeds at work. The ninty-degree weather hasn't been helping either.

Some days I wish I was four again. And if I wanted to stick my head straight in the sand, butt up in the air and give the "Look Mom, No Hands!" gesture, I totally would. Such wreckless abandon and lack of feeling like a fool is an admirable trait that all children possess.

I think I may need to go channel some of that right now. Preferably under a sprinkler.